


The New Normal

by justadreamfox



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Aaron is Awesome, Andreil, But kind of, CW: discussion of scars and where they came from, Exy, Fake Marriage, High School AU, M/M, Moriyamas - Freeform, Sort Of, backstories are skewed a bit, but not really, kevjean, oh and we got some OCs now, this is not kandreil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justadreamfox/pseuds/justadreamfox
Summary: Everybody knew about Nathaniel Wesninski. The heir apparent to the Butcher of Baltimore, the pin pulled from the grenade that exploded a criminal empire and let it crumble at his feet, stepping unscathed out of the rubble with Kevin Day - the missing Son of Exy - at his side.So yeah, everybody knew about Nathaniel Wesninski, but Andrew sure as shit never expected to see him in his house, casually drinking a Pepsi with his brother.Or, a high school AU where everyone knows who Neil and Kevin really are, Andrew is intrigued, and we're all trying to tell the truth here, but like...not all of it, okay?
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day & Neil Josten, Kevin Day/Jean Moreau, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 200
Kudos: 825





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my beta [makebelieveanything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makebelieveanything/) \- thanks for listening to me babble and change the plot fourteen times.

Everybody knew about Nathaniel Wesninski. The heir apparent to the Butcher of Baltimore, the pin pulled from the grenade that exploded a criminal empire and let it crumble at his feet, stepping unscathed out of the rubble with Kevin Day - the missing Son of Exy - at his side. 

The news coverage had been non-stop. If the death of a previously unknown but far-reaching mobster and his wife wasn’t headline enough, the recovery of a rising exy super star who had been missing for over a year fueled the media flames. The mobster’s son and the exy star had become household names, simultaneously objects of both fascination and pity, their faces dominating the news and the covers of magazines for months. 

So yeah, everybody knew about Nathaniel Wesninski, but Andrew sure as shit never expected to see him in his house, casually drinking a Pepsi with his brother.

Andrew walked into the kitchen and dropped his backpack onto one of the counter stools. Aaron grinned at him around a mouthful of goldfish crackers and Nathaniel set his can of soda down and eyed him warily. 

“Hey Andrew! This is Neil. He’s new.”

“Neil,” Andrew repeated. “Not Nathaniel?”

Neil raised an eyebrow at him. “I prefer Neil.”

“But that’s not your name, is it?”

“What’s in a name?” Neil replied. 

Aaron snorted. “Don’t mind my brother, he’s a bit of a dick, but loveable.”

Andrew snorted back but didn’t argue. This wasn’t the first time Aaron had brought home a stray, but usually his strays were the obvious urchins who needed to be taken under the class president’s wing - transfer students, and foster kids, and the ones who ended up low on the totem pole and picked on by the football team. Those were the students Aaron usually toted home after Exy practice, feeding them snacks, inviting them for sleepovers, effortlessly offering the protection of Columbia High School’s golden boy, and by extension, the golden boy’s slightly scarier twin brother.

After all, Andrew had been Aaron’s first stray.

Neil, however, did not look like a stray. He was impeccably dressed in designer clothes that fit his toned frame quite well - Andrew would bet his exy racket that those jeans alone cost more than every piece of clothing Andrew was wearing combined. He was also bloody gorgeous - Andrew didn’t mind admitting it to himself, even if it rankled him. Only a couple inches taller than him, the boy’s auburn hair was neatly trimmed and artfully styled, and his pale blue eyes regarded Andrew steadily. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his lips full and kissable, and the only thing keeping his face from classical perfection was a slight bump along his nose that told Andrew it had been broken at some point. 

Aaron shoved another handful of goldfish into his mouth before speaking up again, the heathen. “Neil’s in my pre-calc class, and we realized he lives right down the street. He gave me a ride home today and I made him drink a Pepsi because he’s never had a soda before in his life. Also, he and his brother scored a special mid season try-out for the exy team tomorrow, so.”

“Is that so,” Andrew said, snagging his own Pepsi from the fridge and stealing the bag of goldfish from his brother before hopping up on the counter to better stare at Neil. 

“Yes,” Neil said neatly. “I have never had a soda before - this is gross by the way - and we do have a try out with Coach Hernandez tomorrow, but Kevin is not my brother.”

Andrew started lining up goldfish on the counter next to him in little rows: nose to fin, nose to fin. “Surprising that they are even making Kevin-Son-of-Exy-Day try out,” he mused.

The corner of Neil’s mouth quirked up a bit at that. “Fair. I suppose the try-out is really for me.”

“Can you play?” Andrew asked, feigning boredom. He wasn’t though - bored that is. Neil on the exy team meant that Andrew would get to sit in his goal and watch this pretty boy run around the court every day. He was very much okay with the idea. 

The other corner of Neil’s mouth quirked up. “Yes.”

“What position? We know Kevin is a striker, obviously, but you?” Aaron asked. 

“I’m a striker too, but I’ve never played on a real team.”

“Huh. Well, I play backliner and Andrew is our goalie. He’s quite good, already being scouted by college teams even though we’re only juniors.”

Neil nodded, “I know.”

“You know,” Andrew repeated.

“Mmm, yes. We came here for the exy team. Me and Kevin. Well, partially.”

Aaron stared at him confused. “What do you mean you came here for the exy team?”

“Because it’s a good team. You guys are nationally ranked for high school teams. That’s part of why we chose to move here.”

“Huh,” Aaron said. 

Neil’s brow furrowed. “Did I say something weird?” he asked. 

“Generally high school students live or move where their parents or guardians go, not where there is a good exy team,” Andrew said drily. 

“Oh,” Neil said. “Well, I don’t have those. Parents or guardians I mean.”

Andrew was surprised a bit by that. He knew about Neil’s parents - they all did: the Butcher of Baltimore had been found dead, shot five times in the head after murdering his own wife. But when Neil and Kevin had shown up on the roster at his high school last week - and in the middle of the fall semester - he had assumed along with everyone else that there must be a relative or guardian in Columbia that they had moved in with. 

“Who do you live with then?” Aaron asked, clearly just as confused as Andrew. 

“Kevin,” Neil replied promptly. 

“No,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “What adult lives with you?”

“No one. It’s just me and Kevin. I’m emancipated, so, I guess technically I am an adult according to the law.” 

Andrew considered that. It only answered half the question. “And Kevin?”

Neil shrugged, and his gaze slid away from Andrew’s. Interesting.

“Kevin’s emancipated too,” Neil said eventually. 

There was something he wasn’t saying, but Andrew decided to drop it for now. “You said that’s part of the reason.”

“What?” Neil asked.

“The exy team. Only part of the reason. What’s the other part?”

“Ah,” Neil hesitated. Andrew narrowed his eyes at the boy and waited, hands braced on the edge of the counter as he rocked a bit forward. 

“Well, we wanted...high school.” Neil shrugged awkwardly, and it was the first time he’d looked young since Andrew had walked into the kitchen. Double interesting. 

“What does that even mean?” Aaron piped up. 

“We’ve both only ever been homeschooled. Kevin had online instruction while he trained with the Ravens and I had private tutors and you know, the other things,” he finished vaguely, flapping one hand in the air.

“Other things like murder stabby torture?” Andrew asked.

“What the fuck Andrew!” Aaron sputtered, but before his twin could tear into him, Neil started laughing, his mouth startled wide. Andrew was momentarily distracted when he noticed the small gap between Neil’s front teeth. 

“No, it’s...actually it’s fine,” Neil said, grinning and staring Andrew down. “Yes, we wanted the normal high school experience without the murder stabby torture.”

“Jesus,” Aaron muttered. 

Andrew one hundred percent agreed with his brother’s assessment, although, he imagined, for a very different reason. He rustled up a rare and rusty Andrew Minyard grin. “Well then, Neil. Welcome to Columbia - where we usually don’t murder stabby people, torture is limited to the norms of high school, and we have a fucking amazing exy team.”

Before Neil could respond to that, the front door opened with quite a bit of commotion and shuffling - the reason becoming clear when Nicky stumbled into the kitchen under the weight of one too many bags of groceries, which he dumped onto the kitchen island, spinning to put his hands on his hips and stare at Neil.

“Holy shit, Nathaniel Wesninski is in our kitchen.”

Neil stared back at Nicky, nonplussed. Well yeah, Andrew’s cousin - their guardian - was quite a lot to take in at first glance. 

“He goes by Neil,” Andrew cut in. “This is Nicky, he’s our cousin and also technically the adult that lives with us.”

“Hey!” Nicky said, swatting at Andrew. “I am very mature for my age - I’m only 25.”

Andrew had unfortunately chosen that moment to start eating his goldfish one by one and he almost choked, coughing and grabbing at his soda. 

Nicky rolled his eyes. “Okay fine, I’m 30 - you don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

Nicky started pulling groceries out of the bags he had brought in and cut his eyes at Neil. He was well versed in what happened when Aaron brought home strays. “Are we keeping him?”

Neil squeaked a little at that, and Andrew was considering how to reassure Neil that Nicky wasn’t planning to kidnap him permanently, but suddenly there was a pounding at the door.

“Did Erik forget his key?” Nicky muttered as he headed back to the front of the house. A muffled “ _ Hey _ ” sounded from the foyer, and then all six foot two inches of a wild-eyed Kevin Day burst into the kitchen.

Andrew hopped down from the counter and started to reach into his armbands, their interloper’s tense posture setting him on edge, but Kevin had rocked to a halt as soon as he laid eyes on Neil. 

Neil in turn had taken a careful step towards him. “Kevin, what are you doing here?”

  
“Your car is parked out front. You said you would be at home.” His gaze roved over Neil frantically, like he was scanning for injuries.

“It’s fine. Look at me, I’m fine. Okay?” Neil’s tone was calm, soothing, and he held out his hand. Kevin’s arm flew up, Andrew saw Neil flinch, and quicker than Andrew knew what he was doing he had grabbed Kevin’s wrist.

Andrew started to squeeze. 

Aaron stepped forward. “We don’t hit people in this house.” 

Andrew watched dispassionately as the color drained from Kevin’s face and he started to sputter, “What? That’s not...no. Neil, I was just going to grab your hand.”

“I know,” Neil said calmly. He took another step towards them. 

“You flinched,” Andrew said to Neil, keeping his eyes on Kevin. 

“That’s on me, not him. Let him go.”

“Neil? You can stay here, if you want to. You don’t have to leave with him,” Aaron said.

“What? No. Neil?” Kevin sounded panicked. “You have to come with me.”

“What are you, his keeper?” Andrew growled.

Kevin flicked his gaze to Andrew, then back to Neil. “No. His husband.”

“Andrew, let him go,” Neil said again.

“Your husband?” Nicky crowed, looking at Neil, delighted. “Wait, what? How old are you?”

Andrew finally dropped Kevin’s wrist. “Shut up Nicky.”

“God dammit Kev,” Neil sighed, taking one last step to put himself in reach, pressing his hands to the sides of Kevin’s face. “I’m sorry I scared you. I’m fine.”

Kevin deflated between Neil’s hands. “I texted you,” he said quietly. “I called you three times.” Neil reached into his pocket and pulled out an iPhone, keeping one hand on Kevin. A couple taps on the screen showed that it was dead. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil said again. “I’m not used to having this thing yet, I forgot to charge it.”

“You aren’t used to having a phone?” Nicky asked incredulously. Neil snapped his gaze up to him, as if he had forgotten he was there, and he straightened, dropping his hands. 

“I apologize for this,” he said stiffly, and then he nodded formally to Andrew and Aaron and left - towing Kevin behind him.

The three of them stood frozen in the kitchen. 

“So those two are married?” Nicky said finally. 

“It seems so,” Andrew said.

Aaron blew out a breath. “What just happened?”

“Not sure,” Andrew said.

Nicky hummed. “So...we’re keeping them, right?” 

Andrew caught Aaron’s eye. 

_ He flinched.  _

_ Yeah I know.  _

_ What the fuck.  _

_ I don’t know.  _

_ Married?  _

_ I know. _

They both nodded at the same time.

Andrew turned to help Nicky put the groceries away. “Yeah, we’re keeping them.”

***

Neil pulled his Audi in behind Kevin’s Jeep in their driveway. They really did live on the same street, right down the block from the Minyard twins, which had just been the luck of the housing market. He cut the engine and sat there a minute. His car. His driveway. His house. It definitely took some getting used to. 

They were safe. 

They. 

That also took some getting used to.

In the kitchen Kevin was pulling things from the fridge - chicken breasts, baby spinach, pre-chopped sweet potatoes and some leftover quinoa. Neither of them had really known how to cook before they moved here - they had both grown up in households that employed chefs, and neither of them would have been allowed in the kitchen even if they had wanted. After the first few days of take-out and fast food, Kevin had taken over the responsibility for their meals, grumbling about how elite athletes needed real food and not chicken nuggets. Neil had teased him mercilessly about calling them elite athletes, but had loaded up on pots and pans and spatulas, had started helping with food prep, had googled “easy one pan recipes” and “four ingredient sheet pan dinners.”

Neil dropped his keys on the counter, his bookbag on the floor, crossed his arms and waited. When he didn’t say anything Kevin finally stilled, and turned around to face him. 

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said. “I panicked.”

Neil sighed. “I know. It’s fine. I’m sorry too.”

Kevin nodded, but didn’t turn back to his dinner preparations, instead opening his arms to Neil and Neil stepped into his embrace and collapsed against him. It was still a revelation - to be touched with kindness, to be cared for, his head tucked under Kevin’s chin and soothing fingers running a trail between his shoulder blades. 

“You know we are safe. There is no one left to hurt us. I won’t let anyone hurt us.” It was a mantra Neil whispered to Kevin daily. 

“I know. But. Fear doesn’t listen to reason. I  _ am  _ sorry,” Kevin said again.

“You told them you’re my husband,” Neil muttered against his shoulder. 

“I am your husband,” Kevin huffed, still rubbing small circles on his back. 

“I know but-”

“You did say you didn’t want to lie to people anymore. That we didn’t have to lie anymore.”

“I  _ know _ but, we also said we wanted to be normal. To fit in. We don’t have to lie, but we also don’t have to blurt out everything. I’m pretty sure that a sixteen year old and a seventeen year old married and in high school is not considered normal.”

Kevin laughed a little. “Do you want me to say I’m sorry again?”

Neil squeezed him tighter before letting him go and stepping away and plopping down into a kitchen chair. “No, god. I don’t know how to be normal anyway. You should have seen Aaron’s face when he got into my car this afternoon. Apparently it’s not ‘normal’ for a high school student to have a brand new Audi. I didn’t explain that compared to what I grew up with, an Audi is sedate.”

Kevin snorted at that and turned back to sorting out ingredients, pulling out pans and spices. 

“Apparently it’s also not normal for us to move somewhere just because the school has a good exy team, so. Whatever, we might as well be married too.”

Kevin quirked an eyebrow at him over his shoulder. “We are married.”   


Neil rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. That’s going to mean something different to everyone else than it does to us. I just didn’t want to have to deal with it.”

Kevin shrugged, intent on tossing the sweet potatoes in olive oil. Fuck. Neil immediately realized his mistake. “Kevin.”

He stiffened, but didn’t respond, dumping the bowl of sweet potatoes onto a pan and shoving them in the oven. 

“Kevin, look at me.” Neil waited. Kevin turned, a tight look on his face. Neil sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know that. So drop the fucking guilt. I don’t regret it, and I would do it again, no question.”

Kevin stared at him, finally blowing out a breath and nodding. “I know. But it’s not fair to you.”

“What’s fair?” Neil scoffed. “I’d be dead without you.” They’d had this conversation before. 

“And I’d be back at the nest.” Kevin had said this before too, but he blanched this time, and Neil knew why. He was sorry they were even having this conversation, but here they were and they needed to finish it and put it away. Clearly Kevin’s scare about him earlier had dredged up all of his anxiety and worries, and now they were dragging them all out and lining them up next to the ingredients for their dinner. 

“We’re going to get him out,” Neil said. He’d promised. He’d promise again. He’d promise as many times as he needed to. “Our plan is good, we are going to get him out. For once in our lives, everything is actually going to be okay.” This too was a mantra.   


Kevin nodded weakly, then a bit more firmly. He managed a smile and turned back to the food. “I’m -”

“Don’t you dare say you are sorry again,” Neil interrupted him. “You’ve hit your quota for the day.”

Kevin wisely shut up and finished making their dinner. They ate at the kitchen table, streaming highlights of an old Palmetto State exy game on the laptop, both of them muttering about sloppy footwork and fumbled shots in between bites. 

Neil hadn’t lied when he’d told the twins that they moved to Columbia for the high school’s exy team, but there were other reasons too. Palmetto State - meaning Coach David Wymack and his Foxes - was definitely one of those other reasons. It was all part of their plan for the future that Kevin and Neil had pieced together after Riko had broken Kevin’s hand, after Neil had enlisted the help of his uncle Stuart, after Neil himself had raised his arm and shot his father five times in the head. 

Stuart now controlled the entire Eastern seaboard in service to the main branch of the Moriyamas, and Ichirou had retaliated for the messes his little brother had caused in his exy empire by staging Riko’s suicide. Kevin’s hand had healed, and Ichirou had wanted him to return to the fold, to Tetsuji. Instead, Neil had declared that he was owed a boon for cleaning up his father’s mess, for talking to the FBI and for only telling them the things that the Moriyamas wanted them to know. 

Neil had declared that Kevin belonged with him.

Smirking, Ichirou had said, “Prove it.” 

Determined, Neil had. 

Now they were safe, not just emancipated minors, but emancipated from the Moriyamas - only owing half of their lifetime earnings back to the main branch, but under no obligation to play by their rules as long as they were playing, as long as they were earning. 

They were safe. Jean was not. But Neil had promised Kevin, and they had a plan. 

After dinner was homework, followed by a short run and showers before bed, and there were no more apologies between them. Crawling into bed, Kevin curled his frame into a tight ball, sighing deeply as he sank into the pillow. 

“Tell me again,” he said quietly. 

Mantras. 

Neil slid under the covers behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging him tightly, pressing his lips to Kevin’s ear. “We are safe. There is no one left to hurt us. I won’t let anyone hurt us.” 

After a moment Kevin whispered, “The other part too.” 

“Our plan is good, we are going to get him out. Everything is going to be okay.” Kevin sighed again and gripped Neil’s hand. 

They lay there like two commas tucked away against the world. Neil waited until Kevin’s breath evened out, until his grip had loosened on his hand, and then he wiggled carefully free, crawled out of the bed and headed for the living room. 

Neil didn’t sleep, at least not with any regularity, and certainly not in the dark of night. The real horrors of his life might be over, but the specter of them still haunted him, rearing its ugly head anytime he closed his eyes. So instead, he curled up on the couch with a cup of chamomile, working his way through episode after episode of some innocuous show on Netflix until sunrise started creeping through the curtains and his leaden eyelids dropped and deposited him directly into a fitful sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Neil was not looking forward to lunch. 

Aaron had invited him and Kevin to meet their friends, but that was before Kevin had blurted out that they were married yesterday, before the two of them had a mini meltdown in the Minyards’ kitchen, before Neil had awkwardly hightailed them out of there. 

He’d thought maybe it would be weird in pre-calc today, but Aaron had been the same smiling, friendly face that he’d been every other day, so at lunchtime Neil had scooped Kevin up and headed outside as Aaron had instructed. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet them - he did, and Kevin did too - the concept of being free to make new friends was thrilling. But he could only imagine that Aaron or Andrew had told their friends about Kevin’s little outburst yesterday, which meant surely there would be questions - and he couldn’t tell a group of high school students that he married Kevin to protect him from the mafia, couldn’t tell them that the crumbling of his father’s empire that they’d watched on the television was merely the tip of the iceberg. 

He ran through possible half-truths in his head as he settled down in the grass under a giant oak tree next to Aaron, Kevin on his other side. Aaron introduced them to Jade, their defensive dealer and Mads, starting backliner. Andrew arrived a few minutes later with Sam who Neil recognized as the other goalie, and plopped down across from them, nodding at Neil and throwing an intense look at Kevin before ripping open a bag of chips. 

There was some quiet rustling and chit chat as they all pulled out lunches and settled in before Sam leaned forward to grin at them. 

“So, Nathaniel,” Sam started.

“Neil,” Aaron and Andrew said in unison. Andrew frowned and threw a potato chip at Aaron. 

Neil laughed. “I prefer Neil.”

Sam nodded, rolling with it. “So, Neil. And Kevin Fucking Day.”

“Why do I always have to have some ridiculous thing shoved in the middle of my name?” Kevin muttered. 

“Because you are Kevin Fucking Day,” Sam said sagely. 

Neil laughed again. “That’s fair,” he said, shoving into Kevin a little with his shoulder. Kevin scowled and shoved back and Neil looked up to catch Andrew watching them. 

“So ANYWAY, tell us about you. We all know about the mafia stuff, but what about the other stuff? What do you do for fun? What movies do you like?” Sam asked.

Neil was caught off guard by the question. He hadn’t talked to a whole lot of new people in the almost two weeks they’d been there, but all of them had wanted to ask about “the mafia stuff.”

“Movies?” Kevin repeated, looking at Neil a bit helplessly. 

Neil shrugged at him and started unwrapping his sandwich. He’d only seen a handful of movies in his life - his father had some sick fascination with old gangster movies: Scarface, the Godfather, GoodFellas, and for some reason Pulp Fiction. He’d sit Neil and his mother down and make them watch as he howled with laughter at every murder, every slash of blood. 

Aside from those forced viewings, it wasn’t like Neil was going to sit in the main part of the house when he didn’t have to and risk the chance of being noticed by Nathan or a bored Lola. So, the idea of plopping on the sofa and watching something of his own volition - even if he’d had the leisure of such a choice - had been unthinkable. 

Kevin’s life in the Nest had been just as locked down - exy, study, exy, crosstrain, exy, avoid Riko. Neil had started spending his summers at the Nest by age 7, training with Kevin and Jean (and Riko). Tetsuji had decided that Riko needed players his own age to train with, so while Kevin and Jean lived there full time, Neil and other kids of the Moriyama’s inner circle were sent every summer as tribute. Although there was access to the internet in the Nest - after all, college athletes still had to do their homework somehow, even if they were Ravens - they certainly didn’t have the time or energy to stream movies. 

Now, with Neflix and Hulu and Amazon at his fingertips, Neil still only turned on the TV to binge watch stupid shows that helped him fall asleep at night. Movies? They were too short; Netflix would autoplay episodes of Gilmore Girls for hours on end.

Something bounced off his cheek, and Neil realized he’d spaced out for too long. Everyone was staring and Andrew had thrown a potato chip at  _ him _ this time. 

Kevin finally came to his rescue, telling them they’d never had much time for movies or anything else besides exy. 

“Boring,” Sam intoned. “We need to figure out your favorite movies. There is more to life than exy.”

“Oh god,” Aaron groaned, “Sam has a new project.”

“Well,” Sam huffed. “We are keeping them right?”

“What does that mean?” Neil piped up. “Nicky said the same thing yesterday.”

“Aha! So we  _ are _ keeping them!” Sam crowed. “We haven’t had a new Monster in ages, and now we get two.”

A glance at Kevin showed that he was just as confused as Neil was. Andrew sighed, and Aaron twirled his hand haphazardly around the circle. “Our group. The offensive line calls us the Monsters. It’s affectionate - I think.” Aaron winked at Mads and he grinned back.

“But we’re both strikers - is this like a defensive line thing?” Kevin asked, his brow still furrowed. 

“It’s more of a ‘we’ve all been through some shit’ thing, and Aaron and Andrew decided to keep us,” Mads clarified. 

“Been through some shit,” Kevin repeated dumbly. 

“Yep, been through some shit,” Mads confirmed. “Like, how my mom split when I was little, dad was a drunk, and now I live with my aunt,” he said matter of factly, with a little salute. 

“And how my parents disowned me ‘cause I’m trans,” Sam said, shooting finger guns at them.

“Same,” Jade said quietly. “Well, they sent me to conversion camp because I’m gay, so I disowned them.”

“Drug addict mom,” Aaron said, raising his hand. 

“Foster care,” Andrew said, and he was looking steadily at Neil. “All of them were bad.”

Neil stared at them. It was a roll call of trauma and they’d all just listed it out like it was no big deal. 

Before Neil could figure out what that meant and if they were supposed to say anything in return, Andrew pointed at him. “And you had a murder stabby torture mafia dad,” then turned that finger on Kevin, “and your mom is dead and clearly something went down in the last year when no one knew where you were.” Andrew popped the last potato chip in his mouth in punctuation. 

Kevin was gaping at that assessment, but really, none of this was new information - it had been all over the news. The Monsters had taken it in stride and they didn’t ask for the gory details - in fact, everyone had turned to their own little conversations after Andrew’s succinct summary, as if giving Neil and Kevin a little breathing room to process things. Neil watched them all surreptitiously as he worked his way through his sandwich. 

Having finished his chips, Andrew was now systematically tearing his PB&J into small pieces while Sam diligently drew little rainbows on the inside of his Converse, the navy glitter of her nail polish flashing occasionally in the dappled light. Andrew’s head was tilted her way as she chattered about some novel she had just finished on his recommendation, and he would occasionally throw a word or a nod her way in between bites of sandwich. Neil realized that Andrew had the same blue glitter on his nails as Sam, and he noticed how close they were sitting and remembered that they had walked up to the group together. Huh. He wondered if the two of them were together - though something about that thought struck him as odd. 

Next to them, Jade had put massive headphones on over her braids and had her arms wrapped around her knees, chin resting on one of them as she systematically dipped her carrots in hummus, popped them in her mouth and crunched loudly. Aaron and Mads were quizzing each other on terms for a chemistry test they had later that day, and they were stealing bites of each other’s lunches. 

It was all very cosy and comfortable and it made Neil feel unreasonably uneasy. He’d sat in circles of kids his age before, during summers spent at the Nest. But those circles had been overlain with fear and exhaustion, along with a constant buzzing need to try to protect Kevin and Jean from Riko. This group was safe. There was no one coming for them. There were potato chips and rainbows on sneakers and chemistry tests and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Kevin tapped the back of Neil’s hand and Neil unconsciously twined fingers with him, and Kevin murmured in French, “Is this what normal looks like?”

Before Neil could answer, Sam cleared her throat loudly, and Neil looked up to catch her and Andrew watching them. “Nope, nope, nope. If you are going to be a Monster, you have to speak in a language the whole class can understand. We made that rule because these two,” she gestured between Andrew and Aaron, “were always whispering secrets in German.” 

Kevin flushed. “It’s a habit, nothing personal. I just said ‘is this what normal looks like?’ is all.”

Both of Sam’s eyebrows rose and she laughed. “That must be the first time we’ve been called normal. I mean, except for Aaron of course.”

“Fuck off,” Aaron said sweetly, and then, “ow!” when Mads punched him in the shoulder. 

“No it’s…” Kevin hesitated. 

“It’s nice,” Neil said, finishing the thought. It would take some getting used to, but it was. Nice.

“Yeah, that,” Kevin agreed.

The Monsters blinked back at them. For one horrifying moment Neil thought it was pity on their faces, but then he recognized the understanding in their eyes. Oh.

“So, movies,” Aaron said, breaking the brief silence. 

“Mm, yeah,” Andrew nodded, and Neil realized he was looking at their hands, tucked between him and Kevin and out of sight of everyone else. Neil had the sudden urge to let go, but he stubbornly tightened his fingers instead.

“We do dinner at our place most Saturdays, and everyone usually crashes, too. We can start this Saturday - work our way through our favorite movies and see what you two like. You’re coming right?” Aaron directed this question at Neil and Kevin.

“Crashes as in sleep there?” Neil asked dubiously.

“Yes, that a problem?” Andrew asked.

Neil shrugged, not sure how to answer. Sleeping was hard enough at his own house where he felt relatively safe, but the Monsters were looking at him expectantly and a glance at Kevin showed that he was interested, so, “Not a problem. We’d love to,” he said, and Kevin nodded beside him. 

Lunch period wrapped up quickly after that, and as Kevin headed off for his English class, Neil jogged a bit to catch up with Andrew and Aaron.

“You didn’t tell the others about me and Kevin,” Neil said, falling into step with them. 

“Is that a question?” Andrew asked.

“Andrew,” Aaron said warningly, and Andrew glared at him. Neil watched something unspoken pass between them.

“Fine,” Andrew sighed finally. “It didn’t seem like something you wanted people to know.”

“Plus, we don’t talk about our friends behind their backs,” Aaron added. 

“Friends,” Neil repeated, nonplussed. 

“Yes idiot,  _ friends _ . What part of ‘we’re keeping you’ did you not understand?” Andrew said. 

“All of it,” Neil admitted. 

Aaron laughed. “We’ll see you at practice later, okay?” 

“Sure,” Neil agreed.

Aaron offered Neil his knuckles and after a moment of confusion Neil met them in an awkward fist bump. Andrew rolled his eyes at them and then the twins headed to class, and Neil - realizing he had been walking in the wrong direction - did an about face and sprinted to his class. 

***

“They are really good,” Aaron said, for about the hundredth time that afternoon. 

Andrew grunted at his brother. He wasn’t wrong. If anything, Aaron’s assessment was an understatement: Kevin and Neil were amazing at exy, and it was somewhat mesmerizing to watch. 

Coach Hernandez had folded the two strikers into their regular practice as a try-out, though the concept of the try-out quickly became moot as they all realized how truly good the two of them were. They were better than any of the other strikers, better than anyone else on the team even - and that was saying a lot as their team was no joke. 

Andrew imagined their skill would potentially have caused problems or resentment, except that they were so  _ nice _ about it. Instead of hogging the ball during scrimmage, they had integrated themselves seamlessly with the team, somehow already knowing everyone’s names, calling out passes and sharing the glory. It was impressive. Andrew was impressed. It was a new feeling for him.

After practice Neil and Kevin had asked Hernandez if they could stay and use the court to run drills. Coach had disappeared to his office and returned with a set of keys which he threw at Neil and said, “Anytime boys, welcome to the team.”

Andrew and Aaron had showered and changed out and climbed up to the top tier of the bleachers to watch as Neil and Kevin ran through lightning fast drills, knocking over cones one by one and then setting them up to do it over again. Watching them now with more distance instead of from the goal, Andrew could note the minute differences in their skill: Neil was fast - faster than Kevin - and his footwork was blinding; Kevin’s shots were more precise, the swing of his racket more powerful. Andrew could see how the two of them together bearing down on a goal would be unstoppable, and his fingers twitched at the need to match his own prowess against theirs, to try to shut down the goal to their onslaught. 

That would be a real challenge. That would be fun. 

Neil and Kevin finally started to stack up the cones, done with their drills for today, and Neil threw a glance up at them - clearly aware they were watching them. That glance reminded Andrew they were still there waiting for a particular reason. After yesterday’s little scene in the kitchen, he and Aaron had agreed they needed to clarify some things with their new friends. Watching Neil and Kevin closely at lunch, Andrew was pretty sure his concern was unfounded, but some things weren’t adding up and they had people to protect. So, clarity.

“It’s time. Which one do you want?” Aaron asked.

“Neil,” Andrew said, and then felt his ears warming when he realized that he’d answered a little too quickly and Aaron was staring at him intently. Times like this it was annoying to have a twin who knew  _ exactly _ what his pink ears meant.

“Fine,” Aaron agreed finally, and they stood up to head down to the court. 

Aaron started to make his way down the bleachers ahead of Andrew, but he paused, turning back to gaze at Andrew thoughtfully. “Careful Andrew. Don’t burn your fingers.”   


Andrew raised an eyebrow and flipped him off.

“Fair enough.” Aaron started to turn away and stopped again. “You do know it’s your heart I’m concerned about, not your moral compass - right?”

This time Andrew flipped him off with both hands.

“Okay, okay  _ fine,” _ Aaron said, chuckling, and he didn’t turn around again.

Aaron banged on the plexiglass wall at the court, and when Kevin and Neil jogged over he told them they wanted to talk and asked if they could give the two of them a ride home. Kevin looked a little confused, but Neil didn’t look surprised at all, and reminded them that they had two cars. 

“Perfect,” Aaron smiled. “I’ll ride with Kevin, and Andrew’s with you.”

Neil just nodded and herded Kevin off to the locker room - fifteen minutes later Andrew was riding shotgun in Neil’s steel grey Audi A4.

“So. Grey,” Andrew said stupidly, to break the silence as Neil shifted gears to slide them smoothly out of the school’s parking lot. 

Neil flicked a glance at him, but didn’t answer, and Andrew waved his hand around the car in clarification. 

“Ah. Yeah. It’s the only color this car came in.”   


“Sounds fake,” Andrew said. 

Neil frowned a little. “Yeah, well. It’s the 2018 A4 Ultra Sport - the last year Audi made manual transmissions for the US market. They only made forty of them and they were all this color.”

“Sounds expensive,” Andrew edited.

Neil shrugged. “My father had a thing for collecting cars. This one and the Jeep he bought for my mom, but she never drove them. This car is basically brand new.”

Neil hesitated, and Andrew waited, resolutely not looking at Neil’s hand where it wrapped around the gearshift. Finally Neil said, “The Feds took everything that was in my father’s name. Understandably. But they couldn’t touch anything that was in my mom’s name, and that all went to me. They couldn’t pin any criminal activity on her, and she had assets that were separate from his. This car was one of those assets.” Andrew noted that Neil said they couldn’t pin any crimes on her, not that she hadn’t committed any. 

Neil cut his eyes at Andrew briefly. “But you said you wanted to talk to me, and I don’t think you meant about my car.”

“No,” Andrew agreed. “Is Kevin going to panic if it takes us a little extra time to get you home?”

“He’ll be fine,” Neil said. 

“Great. Take a left up here. There’s a park we can stop at.”

Neil didn’t say anything, just turned left and drove on, pulling up in front of the small nature park and cutting the engine. It was quiet for a moment. 

“What do you need to know?” Neil asked, draping his wrists over the steering wheel and turning his head to gaze at Andrew.

“You weren’t surprised I wanted to talk to you,” Andrew said. 

Neil shook his head. “Not really. Particularly not after you invited us into your group. Your Monsters.” Neil’s lips quirked up in a small grin at that.

“You like that,” Andrew noted. 

Neil huffed a little laugh. “Yeah. I do. I’ve known real monsters in my life. It’s - I don’t know, ironic? It makes me oddly happy.”

The grin stayed on Neil’s lips as Andrew looked back at him. He only had two things he needed to know, and the rest of it was up to Neil, really. Even if Andrew had a lot more than two questions. Loads more than two questions. 

“A truth for a truth,” Andrew offered, surprising himself a little. He’d played the truth game with Aaron when his brother had first found him and brought him home, the two of them sitting on the roof of the new house Nicky and Erik had bought, desperately trying to get to know each other and stay on even footing. 

Neil sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, considering, and Andrew looked away in self preservation, briefly berating himself for not sending Aaron with Neil instead.

“Truth is a luxury,” Neil said slowly, and Andrew stole a glance back at him to make sure he’d put his bottom lip back where it belonged. He had.

“And do you have that luxury?” Andrew asked. 

“I didn’t used to,” Neil mused. “But now...well, I’m trying to tell the truth. Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Andrew repeated. 

Neil gazed back at him and for a moment Andrew was afraid he was going to suck his bottom lip into his mouth again, but instead he said, “I’ll play truth for truth, and I won’t lie to you. If I can’t answer I’ll tell you I can’t answer. Deal?”

“Deal,” Andrew agreed. 

“So?” Neil asked.

“So. You and Kevin.”

“Ah,” Neil said. Andrew noticed Neil had tensed a bit, and he was gazing through the windshield now. “What about me and Kevin?”

“You flinched yesterday when he reached for you. And you didn’t want us to know you two are married. So. You and Kevin.”

“Oh, that.” Neil relaxed a little bit and leaned back in his seat. Andrew was now incredibly curious as to what had made Neil tense up so much if it wasn’t  _ that _ , but he waited to see what Neil would give him.

“Kevin and I both fit in with your Monsters more than you know. I have reasons to flinch, but those reasons don’t come from Kevin. He would never, ever hurt me - and I would never hurt him. We’ve known each other for a long time, and we’ve been through some shit - as Mads said. Yesterday, he just...panicked. We’re still getting used to not having to be on guard all the time.”

Andrew nodded. This he understood. He moved around in the world differently now than he did when he first left the Spears. He could imagine what had taught The Butcher’s son to flinch. So yeah. It took time to learn not to be on guard all the time once people stopped trying to hurt you. 

“Basically you have no chill,” Andrew said

“I don’t know what that means, but that sounds about right,” Neil sighed. 

“And the marriage?” Andrew prompted.

Neil drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and cocked his head to the side. “It’s not a secret. It is weird though, isn’t it? I’m sixteen and he’s seventeen, and we’re married. I just really didn’t want to have to explain it to everyone. I just really did want to see what normal high school was like.”

“No one knows except me and Aaron. Well, and Nicky. Which could be a problem, but I’ll try to take care of it. You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone.”

“Except you, apparently,” Neil said quietly. 

Andrew frowned. “No. You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, including me. But I  _ am _ going to make sure you are safe, and that you aren’t in a marriage you don’t want to be in.”

Neil’s impossible blue eyes widened at that, and he stared at Andrew for several moments. “Why?” he asked.

“Friends, remember?” Andrew said. Neil sucked his bottom lip in again. “Stop that, you’re going to bite your lip off,” Andrew growled at him. That startled a little laugh out of Neil but at least he let his lip go. This was going to be a problem.

“I’m not in a marriage I don’t want to be in,” Neil said. 

“Okay,” Andrew said. 

“Okay,” Neil repeated. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Andrew agreed. 

“Huh,” Neil said, still watching him. “Okay. So I get to ask now?”

“Sure.”

“You carry knives. Why?” Neil flicked a look at Andrew’s ever-present armbands, and Andrew froze, surprised.

“How do you know that?”

“You reached for them when Kevin burst into your kitchen yesterday. I’m The Butcher’s son, remember? I generally know where the knives are in a room.”

Andrew fiddled with the edge of his armband, and then, making a decision, reached in and pulled out one of the long, thin blades. He saw Neil tense up next to him and he paused, then carefully laid the blade on the armrest between them and shifted away. Neil picked it up, twirled it with shocking ease, and rested it on his thigh with his thumb tapping along the hilt, his face shuttered.

Andrew chose his words carefully, just as Neil had. “I grew up in foster care, like I said. They were all bad homes, some of them worse than others. I couldn’t always protect myself. The last house I was in before Aaron found me was the worst in a lot of ways. The armbands came first, the knives later. They were part of a plan, and I learned how to use them.”

“And you still carry them,” Neil said thoughtfully.

Andrew didn’t respond. It wasn’t a question, and Neil clearly knew exactly what it meant: Andrew would protect his own, however he needed to.

“You carry them to school?” Neil asked. 

This was a question. “Yes,” Andrew said. 

“Hmmm. Okay,” Neil said. He handed Andrew his knife, then reached down, pulled up his pant leg, and sat back up with a gun in his hand. He flipped it casually, released the clip, and placed it between them on the armrest, pointed away from both of them. Andrew picked it up and inspected it. 

“You’ve been carrying this to school?” he asked.

“Yes,” Neil said.

“And on the court?” Andrew raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, there’s a gun safe in the trunk of this car. I locked it up for practice.”

Andrew had never held a gun before. It was heavy. He handed it back to Neil, and Neil rested it casually on his thigh, much as he had done with Andrew’s knife. “And if someone came for you during practice? During a game?”

Neil shrugged. “They wouldn’t. Too many witnesses.” Neil cocked his head at Andrew. “Besides, do you need your knives to be dangerous?”

“No,” Andrew admitted. 

“And I don’t need my gun,” Neil grinned. He looked feral. Andrew liked it. Fuck. He busied himself putting his knife back in his armband, taking longer than he really needed to, and Neil slid the clip back into his gun and tucked it away smoothly into the strap above his boot.

“Is anyone coming after you?” Andrew asked carefully.

“No,” Neil said, shaking his head slowly, and then he dropped his head back against the headrest and his grin widened. “God it feels good to say that. No, no one is coming after me or Kevin. Not anymore.”

“Then why the gun?” Andrew asked.

“The same reason you still carry your knives, Andrew,” Neil said softly, turning his head to look at him intently, and Andrew felt  _ seen _ . 

“Neil.”

“Andrew.”

“You should know this is not a normal high school conversation.” 

“I said something weird again didn’t I?” Neil looked unrepentant. 

“Several things. But then, so did I.”   


Neil laughed, throwing his head back, squinting his eyes, smiling wide open with that gap in his front teeth on full display. “Yeah, the whole normal thing, I don’t know how to do it. It might just be a pipedream.”

“It might just be,” Andrew muttered. Neil’s laugh was dancing around his brain and yeah, he needed to get out of this car soon.

“So we’re good?” Neil asked, once he got himself under control.

“We’re good,” Andrew agreed. He wasn’t good, nope, not one bit. But that wasn’t what Neil was asking, so he nodded, and Neil started the car and turned them towards their street. 

It was moments to his house, they hadn’t been far. Neil pulled into the driveway and as Andrew was getting out Neil called his name and he paused, ducking his head back into the car.

“I’m glad we’re friends. I’ve only ever had two.” Neil was smiling up at him, his face soft and open, and Andrew nodded, because that’s what he could do. 

Andrew closed the door, gave Neil a two-fingered salute. He made it into the house without looking back, and then leaned against the front door and closed his eyes. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _ fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gilmore Girls because of @djhedy (i don't make the rules)


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday night at the Minyard-Hemmick-Klose house was cozy and chaotic and Neil  _ loved _ it. Google had suggested a bottle of wine when Kevin and Neil searched for what to bring to dinner, and while Neil could easily procure it, he wasn’t sure that Nicky and his husband would appreciate the gesture from a couple of high school kids. 

Instead, he and Kevin had spent the afternoon making cookies - the  _ entire  _ afternoon actually, since the first batch burned and they forgot to put the egg in the second batch (Neil discovered the egg sitting lonely on the counter after they’d already set the oven timer). The third batch came out decent, a little crispy but not quite burnt this time. Kevin and Neil had split one to test them and shrugged. They didn’t have enough butter to make a fourth batch, so this would have to do. 

They showed up at the appointed time of 3 p.m., overnight bags in hand as directed. Kevin handed the cookies to Aaron when he’d opened the door, and Aaron teased, “Oh honey, you shouldn’t have,” effectively turning Kevin’s cheeks and ears crimson. 

Neil snorted, and Andrew appeared behind his twin, snagging the container of cookies and popping one in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Crunchy,” he said. “Needs more chocolate chips.” He popped another one into his mouth before waving them into the kitchen. Neil rolled his eyes, not bothering to explain that they would have put in more chocolate chips if they hadn’t almost used them up on the first two batches. 

The rest of the Monsters were already in the kitchen, taking orders from a very tall, very fit German man who Nicky effusively introduced as, “My husband Erik,” with a conspiratorial wink.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Neil,” Neil said in flawless German. 

“Nope! Neil, we’ve been over this,” Sam squawked from where she was rolling meatballs out on the kitchen island.

Neil laughed, “I was just trying to be friendly.”

“Ah leave him alone, it’s nice to hear my native language not be butchered for once,” Erik grinned, ignoring Nicky’s indignant noises from behind them. “And Kevin, do you speak German as well?”

“No sir, just French and Japanese.” Kevin’s posture was stiff, and Neil leaned a little into him in support. Kevin still wasn’t used to being around adults that he didn’t have to be afraid of. To be fair, Neil wasn’t used to it either, he was just a better actor.

Erik smiled warmly. “Just French and Japanese, huh,” he chuckled, and Neil watched his gaze flicker down to where Neil had pressed against Kevin. “Please just call me Erik. Do you two want to help? It’s spaghetti and meatballs for dinner and we’re just getting started.”

Neil and Kevin nodded, and washed their hands. Kevin was assigned to washing tomatoes, and Neil was handed a large bunch of garlic to peel and chop. He found a space at the counter next to Andrew to set the chef’s knife and cutting board down, and then dumped his pile of garlic on top. He wasn’t entirely sure how to start. Neil didn’t realize he was staring at the garlic and idly twirling the very large knife in his hand until Andrew reached out to grab his wrist, stilling his motions. Neil looked up to find everyone staring at him. 

“Oops?” Neil said. Kevin rolled his eyes and the rest of them turned back to their tasks and conversations hastily. 

“I was being weird again?” Neil asked Andrew.

“Obviously,” Andrew smirked, and then inclined his head to the garlic. “Do you know what to do with that?”

“Obviously not,” Neil said merrily. 

“Here, like this.” Andrew separated one of the cloves from the bunch, and took the knife from Neil, laying the flat edge of it on top of the garlic and popping it once with the heel of his hand. “Now you can pull the skin off easily.”

Neil took the knife back from Andrew and repeated his motions with the next clove of garlic, and it gave a lovely little smoosh-crunch when he whacked the knife. “Huh. That’s rather satisfying isn’t it?” he said, turning a wide smile on Andrew. 

Andrew stared at him for a moment, and Neil worried he’d said something weird again, but then Andrew just said, “Yeah,” and turned back the salad dressing he was whisking. 

“So exactly how many languages do you speak?” Andrew asked, after Neil had whacked about half of the garlic. 

Neil hummed, whacked another clove. “Six,” he said.

Andrew frowned at him. “Six,” he repeated. 

Neil whacked another clove. “Well, English. Then French, German, Spanish, Japanese, and Arabic - but my Arabic isn’t very good.”  _ Whack, whack, whack. _ Neil wondered if Kevin would let him start putting more garlic in their dinners. 

“Your Arabic isn’t very good,” Andrew repeated, and Neil realized he had stopped whisking and was staring at him again. 

Neil sighed. “Not normal?” he asked. Andrew shook his head. Neil shrugged. “Well, as my friend you are just going to have to get used to it. I have given up on being normal.” He whacked another clove. “How many languages do you speak anyway?” 

“German,” Andrew said, and he hesitated. Neil raised an eyebrow at him. “And French and Spanish.” 

Neil pointed the knife at Andrew, “Ha!” he said, and then realized that maybe he in particular shouldn’t point knives at people and set it down on the cutting board. “See? You speak almost as many as I do.” 

“Yes Neil, but I really shouldn’t be your barometer for normal behavior.” Andrew sounded resigned, and Neil grinned at him. 

“But you are my friend Andrew - we can normalize each other.” 

“Oh my god. Whack your garlic you menace.” 

“Gladly,” Neil chirped, and picked up his knife again to demolish the rest of the cloves. 

Once everything was washed and peeled and chopped and in a pot simmering, Erik declared the sauce would take at least two hours and they could start the first movie. Sam and the Monsters had taken the favorite movie challenge seriously, and Sam had assured Neil they would make it through at least two tonight, which Neil thought sounded reasonable, but he’d ploughed through at least seven Gilmore Girl episodes last night, so what did he know? 

Everyone but Neil and Kevin wrote down their favorite movie, and then put them in a jar, which Aaron capped, shook, then handed to Kevin. “You pick first - then Neil you pick the one for after dinner,” he said. Kevin twisted the lid off and pulled out a balled up scrap of paper. Aaron plucked it out of his hands, read out, “Mean Girls,” and then crowed, “WHO WROTE THIS?” 

Nicky swatted at him. “It’s a good movie, okay?” he laughed. 

“I thought the old people didn’t get to put in movies,” Andrew said. 

Nicky snatched up a kitchen towel and threw it at Andrew, “Thirty is not old,” he protested. 

“Says you.” Andrew threw the towel back at him.

“ANYWAY,” Aaron interrupted, handing the jar to Neil. 

Neil plunged his fingers in and came up with a neatly folded piece of paper. Aaron took it and read off, “The Princess Bride,” and then frowned. “That’s Andrew’s favorite, but we can’t do that one, it has to be something they haven’t seen.” 

Neil exchanged a look with Kevin, and Kevin shook his head subtly. “We haven’t seen that one,” Neil said.

“WHAT,” Sam protested. She turned to Jade. “This is more dire than we realized.” Jade just shrugged. Sam’s eyebrows raised into her hairline as she looked back at Neil and Kevin. “How have you not seen The Princess Bride?”

“Never heard of it,” Kevin said. 

“Um,” Neil said unhelpfully.

Aaron looked surprised too, but he rolled with it. “Okay then, Mean Girls and The Princess Bride it is.”

They piled into the living room, which appeared to be permanently set up for just this kind of thing - a giant flat screen on the wall, surround sound speakers, and an epic chenille sectional sofa that wrapped around two-thirds of the room. 

Aaron caught Neil eyeballing it all and grinned. “We like movies.” 

“I see that,” Neil said, finding a spot on the couch next to Kevin out of habit. Sam plopped next to him, a small tote bag in her lap, and Andrew on the other side of her - the rest of the Monsters finding spots around them, and Erik and Nicky settling into a separate loveseat with glasses of wine. 

Neil was delighted to discover that “watching movies” was apparently a multi-tasking event. Jade nestled on the other side of Kevin and pulled out a truly impressive collection of embroidery floss and started twisting together multi-colored threads before the opening credits of the movie even started. Neil huffed a private laugh when she nonchalantly tugged Kevin’s hand onto her knee, and tied a loop around his thumb. 

“What are you doing?” Kevin mumbled at her, and Neil could tell he was struggling not to pull his hand back. 

“Making bracelets,” she said. “This okay?” 

“Yeah sure,” Kevin breathed after a small hesitation, and Neil watched the tension fall out of his shoulders as he relaxed. 

The movie started and Neil knew within ten minutes that he wasn’t going to be able to focus on it - something about Africa and then high school, and a bunch of jokes he wasn’t getting. It was fine, because he had friends around him, and when they laughed it made him smile. Kevin was happy next to him, and really, it was okay if he didn’t understand a damned thing going on in this movie and which one was supposed to be the Mean Girl. 

Jade finished the first bracelet and Neil watched her tie it around Kevin’s wrist before plopping his hand right back on her knee and starting the next one. On the far end of the couch Mads had his feet propped up in Aaron’s lap, a sketchbook open on one bent knee, and he was drawing a giant three-headed dragon. Aaron was actually paying rapt attention to the movie, but he was also holding a fist full of colored pencils splayed out between his knuckles, and Mads would occasionally pull a new one loose and tuck an old one back in between Aaron’s fingers as he worked on his drawing.

Neil tried and failed to pay attention to the movie again, and when Sam shifted next to him and started pulling things out of her tote, he turned to watch her instead. Sam started on her own nails first, scrubbing at them with cotton balls doused in acetone until all the navy sparkly polish was gone. When she was finished, she said, “Gimme,” and without looking at her, Andrew handed her first one hand, and then the other, and Sam bent over her task. It took some time, and when Sam caught Neil looking she said, “The glitter ones are particularly hard to get off,” with a grimace. 

Neil nodded like he had any idea what she was talking about, but he was fascinated. When she was done, she peered into her little tote again, pulled out a deep forest green nail polish and held it up. “This one?” she asked Andrew. He flicked his gaze back at her and nodded, glancing at Neil before looking back at the movie again. Sam quickly painted two coats on Andrew’s nails. It was a bit sloppy Neil thought; the paint job certainly didn’t stay within the bounds of his nails. Sam seemed to read his mind, because after she finished the second coat and carefully put Andrew’s hand back on his own knee, she winked at Neil and said, “The extra bits will come off in the shower and it will be perfect.” 

Neil was trying to figure out what to say to that when Kevin started tugging on his arm, and he looked over to see that Jade had finished another bracelet. She reached out a hand to him with a smile, and when he tentatively let her have his arm she tied the bracelet around his wrist and then snipped off the trailing threads. He blinked down at it - a swirl of rusty orange and navy and lavender. “Thanks,” Neil said. “I love it.” He really did. In fact, it took him a little off guard how much he loved it. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, and then she tugged Kevin’s hand back into her lap to start the next one.

At some point Erik headed into the kitchen to stir the sauce and start the pasta boiling. Neil thought maybe they should help, but Erik assured him that he had it under control and that Nicky had made him watch this movie at least twenty times. 

Neil shrugged, settled back on the couch, and was surprised to see that Andrew was painting Sam’s nails now. “We could do yours if you want, Neil?” Sam asked after Andrew started her second coat. 

Neil thought about it. “Yeah, I’d like that actually.” 

Neil heard Kevin’s disbelieving, “Really?” from next to him, but he ignored it. 

“Great!” Sam said brightly, “Andrew will do it for you - he’s much better at this than I am.” She wiggled her free hand in his face and she was right, all the polish was on her nails and not all over her fingertips. 

“Will I now?” Andrew laughed quietly, not looking up as he finished Sam’s pinky. 

“You don’t have to,” Neil said. 

Andrew capped the polish and looked up at Neil. “Oh, but I am going to. Switch with Sam.”

Neil switched with Sam, and Andrew pushed at his knee and motioned until Neil was sitting cross-legged facing him. 

Andrew held up the bottle of dark green polish. “Same color as us?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Neil nodded and Andrew held out a palm, and Neil laid his hand in his. Andrew’s palm was warm and solid and calloused under Neil’s, and the contact felt almost intimate. As Andrew repositioned his hand to grip his thumb, Neil realized it had been a very long time since anyone but Kevin had really touched him. Andrew bent over Neil’s hand, and the tip of his tongue was just peeking out the side of his mouth in concentration. He finished the thumb nail and moved to the rest of Neil’s hand, cradling each of his fingers by the knuckle, gently turning each one to make sure he got all the corners done. 

Andrew took his time. Neil couldn’t look away. 

He finished the first coat on his left hand and blew on it, then paused, and Neil thought maybe he was supposed to do something now, but he just stared at the green polish on his nails and his hand resting in Andrew’s, and then Andrew looked up and their faces were inches apart. This close Neil could see the flecks of gold in Andrew’s warm hazel eyes, and for some reason the only word that came to mind was  _ pretty _ . 

“Neil,” Andrew said, and Neil startled. 

“Oh, right,” he said, and handed Andrew his other hand. Andrew gazed at him another moment, and then bent back to the task. Neil suddenly and inexplicably wanted to yank his hand out of Andrew’s grasp, but instead he let out a breath, looked up, and caught Aaron staring at them with a look on his face that Neil didn’t recognize.

***

After an incredibly delicious dinner they all curled up on the couch again to watch The Princess Bride and Neil  _ liked _ this movie. It was silly and ridiculous and a little violent. He actually understood the jokes, and he laughed when everyone else laughed, and Andrew said “See? It’s good,” and Neil nodded and smiled because it  _ was _ .

When it was over, Andrew told him the book was even better, and promised to lend it to him. Nicky and Erik piled up an overwhelming amount of pillows and blankets for them before heading off to their own bed, and Neil quickly got the idea that the Monsters just bedded down in the living room. He wasn’t looking forward to trying to sleep here, but Kevin had already dozed off twice during the movie, and well, maybe it would be okay. 

They took turns in the bathrooms brushing teeth and changing into sweats and pajamas. Neil was a bit surprised to see that both Aaron and Andrew were wearing glasses now - they must have taken contacts out then. Aaron dropped a few pillows and blankets at one end of the sectional, ostensibly for Neil and Kevin. Jade curled up on the loveseat, Sam made a nest in the middle portion of the sectional, and Andrew executed a half-starfish on the far end, his feet tangled with Sam’s. Mads and Aaron put together an impressive pallet of blankets and pillows in the middle of the floor and collapsed on them.

Kevin stretched out, and Neil propped up by his head, petting his hair absentmindedly and wondering what the hell he was going to do for the hours it was going to take him to fall asleep, but then Sam clicked the TV back on and said, “Doctor Who?” When she was met with murmurs of agreement and a shrug from Neil, pressed play and curled up.

Two episodes later everyone was asleep except Neil. Kevin was snoring softly next to him, arms wrapped around whatever bits of Neil he could get to, and Neil was considering the merits of adding Doctor Who to his insomnia rotation.

Neil carefully untangled himself from Kevin - not that he really had to worry about waking him up, nothing short of a nuclear apocalypse would wake Kevin in the middle of the night - and padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see Andrew blinking at him sleepily from the doorway a moment later, his tortoiseshell frames perched haphazardly on his nose and ash blond hair sticking up in five more directions than it should.

“Sorry,” Neil whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Andrew grunted and shrugged. “Light sleeper,” he said, before shuffling past him to the fridge.

He dug around in the freezer, pulled out a tub of ice cream and then two spoons from a drawer, and motioned Neil out the back door. It was warm out, the stars clear in the sky at this late hour, and they sat elbow to elbow on the porch steps. 

“This is the best ice cream in the world. It tastes like chocolate milk,” Andrew said, pulling off the lid.

“Doesn’t all chocolate ice cream basically taste like chocolate milk?” Neil asked. 

“No,” Andrew said, handing him a spoon. 

Neil took a bite, and it was really fucking good. “You’re right, tastes like chocolate milk.” He scooped out another bite. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Andrew asked after taking three bites of his own.

Neil hummed. “Not one of my super powers.”

Andrew hummed back. They sat in silence for a while, eating their ice cream.

“I have nightmares,” Andrew said eventually. “Not as much as I used to, but. I wake up a lot.”

Neil considered that. It was an offer to talk. He decided to take it. “It’s the falling asleep in the first place I have problems with. Kevin goes to bed, the day quiets down and...all of a sudden the distractions are all gone, and just closing my eyes is not an option.”

“So what do you do?”

“Have you ever heard of the Gilmore Girls?”

“Yes, Neil - me and every other person who doesn’t live under a rock,” Andrew snorted.

“It’s perfect really - no matter if I manage to doze off and wake up, I don’t have to know what’s going on - just Lorelei and Rory and coffee and snarky repartee.”

“Oh my god, you are hopeless,” Andrew laughed a little and Neil grinned back. “When you finish Gilmore Girls, add Gossip Girl to your list. Trust me.”

“Okay,” Neil said, and then for some reason he added, “I do.”

“What?”

“Trust you,” Neil murmured. 

Andrew looked at him and proffered the ice cream again. “Ask me something,” he said. 

“Truth for a truth again?” Neil asked.

“No, just. Talking.”

“Okay - um. So you and Sam?”

Andrew frowned. “Me and Sam what?”   


“How long have you two been together?” Neil asked.

Andrew blinked at him, the look of surprise subtle but obvious, and Neil thought maybe he had overstepped. “I apologize, that’s none of my business, clearly -” he started, but Andrew just held a hand up and Neil stopped. 

“Neil, I am gay,” he said incredulously, as if it should have been obvious, and now Neil was surprised. 

“Oh.”

“Sam’s my best friend.”   


“Okay. So you and Aaron are both gay?”

Andrew did laugh then. “No, Aaron is straight. He’s our token straight.”

Neil frowned. “But Aaron and Mads…”

Andrew sighed. “Aaron and Mads are just friends. Mads is bisexual, Jade already told you she is gay, Sam is pansexual, and like I said - I am gay.”

“Huh,” Neil said. 

“ _ Huh _ ,” Andrew mimicked with a smirk, and Neil shoved into him a little with his shoulder. They polished off the ice cream, and Neil wondered if Andrew was going to ask about his sexuality, but he didn’t, and maybe he just assumed Neil was gay too because he was married to Kevin, and well, Neil wasn’t going to bring it up if Andrew wasn’t. 

“Can I ask another question?” Neil said, after they had set the carton aside. 

“You can do anything you want,” Andrew quipped, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the sky.

Neil leaned back too, looking up at the stars. “Do you want to go pro?” he asked Andrew.

Neil heard rather than saw Andrew’s head turn towards him, but he didn’t look, and eventually Andrew turned back to the sky. “Why is that your question?” Andrew asked. 

“You’re really fucking good, Andrew. At exy. I just wondered if that was your plan. Aaron said you were already being scouted by colleges.”

“And you said you already knew that before you moved here,” Andrew said. 

“I knew your stats,” Neil said. “But stats are one thing - seeing you play this week was quite another.”

“Yes, I want to go pro,” Andrew said carefully, and he hesitated before adding, “I haven’t said that out loud before.”

Neil turned from the stars to frown at him. “Why not?”

Andrew dropped his gaze to Neil’s. “Maybe I’m still not used to being able to want things,” he said softly. 

Neil didn’t know what that meant, and he wasn’t sure if they were still talking about exy, but before he could ask Andrew hopped up. “Come on, let’s try for sleep,” he said, and Neil followed him back into the living room. Andrew flipped to Netflix and put Gilmore Girls on, and Neil smiled gratefully at his friend as he curled up next to Kevin and eventually fell asleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

The next Monday, Andrew joined Neil and Kevin’s extra practice. Neil grinned at him, Kevin shrugged, and they folded him into their drills. On Tuesday he stayed again. By Wednesday, Kevin and Neil gravitated towards his goal at the end of regular practice, waiting for the others to leave the court, and that was the first day that they turned their striker drills on him. 

Damn they were good, but so was he, and this was some real fun - Kevin and Neil and Andrew on the court, Kevin pushing all three of them harder and harder, Neil whipping shots faster and faster. Andrew watching, learning, shutting down his goal; he was ferocious and he loved it, and he knew - he  _ knew _ \- that everything could have gone very differently for him and somehow that made the game so much sweeter.

At 12 years old, Andrew had already carried permanent scars, along with the armbands to cover them. At 12 years old, he already carried knives, already had a plan to use them. But then Aaron found out about Andrew after Tilda overdosed, and Nicky and Erik arrived at the Spears’ house, a flustered social worker in tow, and a plane ticket to South Carolina in their hands.

In that first year in Columbia, Andrew went everywhere Aaron did. Aaron joined the middle school exy team to diversify his college applications - he wanted to go pre-med, then med school. He wanted to be a surgeon. Andrew joined the middle school exy team because Aaron did, but Andrew - healing, uncertain, reticent - had been surprised to find that he was very, very good at exy.

Particularly when he played goalie.

It suited him: stand in the goal, don’t let the ball in. Clear, simple, uncomplicated. He liked it. He liked the power of denying shots, he liked that he was in charge of his own little corner of the court, in control of his own little world. He liked being good at something. He loved being  _ great _ at something. 

Exy helped him heal, and Aaron had given him exy. Aaron had found him when their mother had abandoned him. Aaron had offered him a brother, a cousin, a home. Aaron had given him hope and love before Andrew stopped believing in both. 

So yeah, Andrew wanted to go pro. And when he’d done his time on a division one college team, when he was recruited on a million dollar contract to play for a top ERC team, then he was going to pay for Aaron to go to medical school. 

Because Andrew would do anything for Aaron. 

And now, Kevin Day was at his school, the Son of Exy himself.

And Neil. Neil who looked at him and saw him and didn’t flinch. Neil who was a wildcat on the exy court, who laughed at the wrong things, twirled knives, whacked garlic. Neil, who was married to Kevin Fucking Day.

So Andrew practiced with Kevin and Neil because it was fucking fun, because they were the best, and Andrew wanted to be the best too. If there was a side benefit that he got to spend more time with Neil? Well, no one needed to know that but Andrew. 

By the time they played their first away game together at Westbrook High School in Charlotte, Andrew had been manning the goal at Neil and Kevin’s extra practices every day for two weeks.

Which was why Andrew should’ve realized. 

At the end of their extended practices, when he would head to the showers, there was always some excuse, some delay - stacking up cones, or running through a new sequence of footwork one more time - that meant Neil didn’t come into the locker room until he and Kevin were already dressed. Kevin never stayed to help Neil, it was always Kevin and Andrew showering, changing out, Neil coming later. Every time. 

And then there were the three-quarter sleeves. He had never seen Neil in anything shorter than three-quarter sleeves. He wore a long sleeve compression shirt under his actual uniform, and no one questioned it. Neil was always impeccably dressed - usually in fitted button up shirts, the cuffs rolled up - but covered, even in South Carolina, which half the time in autumn still felt like summer and the rest of them sported tank tops and T-shirts.

Maybe Andrew hadn’t connected the dots, hadn’t questioned it - because showering next to Neil at school would have been just too much to deal with. But as Andrew walked into the Westbrook High School locker room after winning their first away game - as he saw Mads and Aaron and the rest of the guys stripping down, saw Kevin hovering over Neil who stood frozen staring at the communal showers - Andrew realized that there was so much more to it and cursed himself.

He considered his options for a split second before making a decision, sitting next to Neil and grabbing the sleeve of his jersey to pull him down onto the bench next to him. “Wait,” Andrew said, and Neil nodded. 

Aaron quirked an eyebrow at him, but Andrew shook his head subtly and silently answered Aaron’s unspoken question that he was  _ fine. _ Aaron just shrugged and headed for the showers, towing Kevin along with him.

They sat there shoulder to shoulder in silence while the rest of the team jostled and showered and dressed. Aaron came out scrubbing at his hair with a towel and threw Andrew a look again. 

_ What’s going on? _

_ Nothing.  _

_ Tell me later?  _

_ Maybe.  _

_ Asshole. _

Andrew just winked.

Kevin dressed silently next to them, put a hand on Neil’s shoulder, and after Neil nodded he hoisted his bag and walked out with Aaron. When the team had almost cleared out, Hernandez popped his head in to give them a five minute warning to get to the bus. Seeing Neil and Andrew still sitting on the bench in their gear he shouted, “Minyard, Wesninski! Get in the showers - we need to go!” 

“Oh hey Coach,” Andrew said, holding up his arms. “I’m having a shy day.” 

Hernandez opened his mouth to say something, decided not to and then started to back out of the door before he paused, and glanced around the now empty locker room. “Do you need me to get Aaron?” 

Andrew shook his head. “Neil‘s got me,” he said. 

Hernandez nodded. “Fine, ten minutes.”

“What was that all about?” Neil asked when he was gone.

“Oh you know,” Andrew said. Coach knew what was under his armbands - not the knives, but the other things. When he first came to Columbia, the cuts were new and fresh and deep and he had to be cleared to play for his middle school team. That record had followed him to high school, and now he had to get cleared at the beginning of each year. In fact the whole team knew what was under Andrew‘s arm bands, because he refused to hide his scars when he showered. But Neil didn’t shower with them. 

“I really don’t,” Neil said.

Andrew shrugged, and then he stood up, pulled his arm bands off and turned his arms towards Neil.

Neil looked down, eyes traversing the silvery scars up and down the inside of Andrew’s forearms. There was no pity in his gaze, and Andrew realized that some innate part of him had been braced for pity, but if he’d really thought Neil would pity him he wouldn’t be standing here, scars bared.

“Not just for knives then,” Neil said, nodding at his discarded armbands. 

“I told you I got them before the knives,” Andrew agreed. 

Neil gazed at him, unreadable, and then he stood up and reached for the hem of his jersey. Andrew touched the back of his hand, and Neil stilled. 

“This isn’t show and tell. You can wait if you want - I can shower first, I am fast.” Andrew wasn’t entirely sure if he was making the offer for Neil’s sanity or for his own. 

Neil shook his head. “I’m fine. It just took me off guard - I didn’t think about the shower thing before we got here.” Before Andrew could say anything else Neil pulled his jersey and his compression shirt off in one fell swoop. Andrew didn’t want to look, and Andrew also  _ did _ want to look. He was standing right in front of Neil, and if he didn’t look, he would have to look away - walk away - and he  _ couldn’t _ . 

So he was still looking at the floor when Neil reached out, tapped a finger under his chin, and carefully tilted his face up.

Andrew looked, because Neil wanted him to look. 

Neil’s entire torso was a battleground: from his biceps to his collarbones, down his chest and belly to his abs, disappearing under the waistband of his shorts. Most of them were long, thin scars left behind by knives and there were a lot of them, but there was also the distinctive shape of a clothes iron seared onto his shoulder and mottled burns covering his biceps. 

After a minute, maybe two, he lifted his gaze to meet Neil’s, and the corner of Neil’s mouth ticked up in a wry half grin. “Monsters,” he said, waving a hand between the two of them. 

“You are ridiculous,” Andrew said. 

“Mmm,” Neil agreed, and he turned to grab his towel. 

They showered silently, and Andrew resolutely did not look at Neil again until he was fully clothed, hair damp and curling around the edges of his fitted, light pink hoodie, lean legs snug in artfully ripped black skinny jeans. Fuck.

Everyone was waiting for them when they got to the bus. Normally Andrew would sit with Sam, sometimes with Aaron. Kevin and Neil had ridden together on the way down. But now Kevin was sitting with Jade, Aaron was with Mads, and Sam was tucked up next to Lisa - the sophomore backliner she had been crushing on since last year. Kevin started to stand up when they got on, but Andrew saw Neil shake his head no out of the corner of his eye, and he raised an eyebrow but sat back down.

They stowed their bags in the overhead - exy gear already below them in the belly of the bus - and Neil slid into the last row, pulling Andrew after him onto the seat. 

The bus was rumbly, and their teammates were talking and laughing and reliving their win. It was loud, but not loud enough that they could talk regularly without being overheard. They were thirty minutes into the ride home when Neil pulled out his phone, typing something. Andrew felt his own phone vibrate in his pocket, and he pulled it out.

_ you can ask me _

**truth for truth?**

_ no, just talking _

**that is my line**

_ i’m borrowing it _

**you are mouthy**

_ yup _

**so**

_ so _

**your dad?**

_ mostly _

**mostly?**

_ also his girlfriend _

_ she taught me how to use knives _

_ lola _

**fuck**

_ that about sums it up _

**is she dead?**

_ yup _

**you can ask me about my arms if you want**

_ ok _

_ tell me? _

**it is how i survived the last bad foster home**

**rape**

_ who? _

**foster brother**

Neil twisted in his seat, dropped his phone in his lap. Andrew met his gaze head on, and Neil’s blue eyes were fierce. “Where is he now, this foster brother?” he whispered.

“Dead,” Andrew whispered back. 

“Did you kill him?”

“No,” Andrew said. Thought about it. Added, “But I was going to.”

Neil hummed, searching Andrew’s face intently for a moment before settling back in the seat. “I would have enjoyed killing him,” Neil said very quietly. 

Andrew huffed a small, surprised laugh. But he wasn’t really surprised, was he? “Me too,” he said. Neil nodded, his face smooth. Andrew cocked his head. “Did you kill Lola?”

Neil shook his head. Hesitated. Leaned close to Andrew, and whispered, “No. Kevin did.”

Andrew suppressed a shiver at the puff of Neil’s breath on his ear, forced himself not to follow when Neil pulled back.

“Ask me about my dad,” Neil said quietly, thoughtfully, watching Andrew. 

Andrew leaned close, cheek to cheek, whispered the question in Neil’s ear. “Did you kill your father Neil?”

When Andrew pulled back the sides of Neil’s mouth twitched, and then a dangerous smile spread across his face, and it didn’t belong on Neil, but it answered the question. 

“Good,” Andrew said. He meant it. 

Neil reached his fingers up to his own mouth, pulled at the corners with his thumb, physically wiped the look off of his face, and then he looked like Neil again, one corner of his lips settling back into his wry half grin. 

“Real monsters,” Neil whispered.

“Not the good kind,” Andrew said. 

“No,” Neil agreed. “I like our kind better.”

They sat, quiet. Their teammates had settled down. Andrew pulled out his earbuds, plugged them in and queued up a playlist. He handed one to Neil, and Neil took it, putting it in the ear closest to Andrew. After the first song Neil turned to him. “I like this,” he said. 

Andrew hummed. “Billie Eilish,” he said.

Eventually Neil slumped next to him, his head nodding. Andrew knew he didn’t sleep much, and he wasn’t going to wake him. The bus bumbled along and then Neil’s head was on Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew stilled. Neil slumped closer. Billie crooned  _ “wish you were gay” _ in his ear. Andrew wanted to laugh, but he didn’t dare breathe. 

He looked up at some point and saw Kevin watching them. Andrew didn’t know what look he expected to find on Kevin’s face when he saw his husband sleeping on Andrew’s shoulder, but it definitely was not the small, soft smile that spread across his lips.

***

It was well after dark when Neil and Kevin walked in their front door, and Neil dropped his bag in the foyer and kicked off his shoes. Neil was exhausted, and he fervently hoped he would be able to sleep tonight. It was one thing to run on fumes through a regular school day - it was quite another to run on fumes through half a school day plus five hours on a bus and an exy game in which he’d played the majority of both halves.

He was hungry, and his brain was a bit of a jumble. He’d been running on pure adrenaline and then had crashed down hard on the bus - on Andrew’s shoulder, listening to Andrew’s music. Neil had really liked that Billie Eilish. Maybe music would be better than Netflix for sleep. He’d have to look into that - he didn’t know much about music.

Kevin made them sandwiches and oven fries for a very late second dinner, and they curled up on the couch with their plates and watched The Great British Bake Off (another Andrew recommendation). 

They were halfway through an episode when Kevin paused it, grabbed both of their empty plates and set them on the coffee table. He pulled Neil’s feet into his lap and started rubbing at the arches. 

“Oh god, yes please,” Neil groaned, his eyes rolling closed and head lolling back. “You want me to do yours too?” 

“No, relax, I know you are exhausted,” Kevin murmured at him. 

Neil peeled one eye open to look at him. “Pretty sure we had the same day.” 

“Yeah but I slept eight hours last night,” Kevin said. Neil pointed at him and closed his eyes again, scooting down the couch to give Kevin better access to his feet, and Kevin pressed his thumbs into his heels and that was heavenly. “So,” Kevin said after a while. 

Neil cracked an eye open again. “So?” 

“Andrew,” Kevin said, lifting an eyebrow. 

“Andrew,” Neil repeated. “Hey, have you heard of Billie Eilish?” 

“Is that a singer?” 

“Yeah, will you play her?” One of Kevin’s hands disappeared for a moment, and then his phone started pumping out that same sultry voice he’d heard on the bus. Oh, right. “What about Andrew?” Neil asked, sinking further into the couch. 

“You like him,” Kevin said. He was using his careful voice and he had both hands back on Neil’s arches again. 

“Well yeah,” Neil said. “He’s my friend.” 

“And you trust him?” Kevin said. 

Neil opened both eyes. “I do,” Neil agreed. 

“Okay,” Kevin said. 

Neil slid back up the couch a little. “You are being weird, what do you want to say?” 

“You fell asleep on him on the bus.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Neil said. 

“That’s kind of my point.” Kevin smiled. “You are comfortable enough with him for that to happen without even thinking about it.” 

“Huh,” Neil said. He hadn’t thought about it. He had just been so tired, and Andrew was, well. He was Andrew. 

Kevin didn’t say anything else, so neither did Neil. 

He thought he might -  _ might  _ \- be tired enough to actually sleep, and it wasn’t long after that Kevin hauled Neil off the couch and they took turns brushing their teeth. They crawled into bed together, Kevin wrapping his arms around Neil and he sighed, sinking down into the mattress - idly thinking he was happy they went with the Tempurpedic even if it had been exorbitantly expensive - and he was maybe actually really drifting off to sleep when Kevin’s phone started buzzing. Neil listened to him slap around for it, only grumbling a little, but then Kevin’s body went rigid behind him, and Neil sat up, turning around with a frown to see Kevin staring at his phone. 

“What? Kevin,  _ what? _ ” Kevin dropped the phone face up on the bed, staring at it in horror, and Neil’s heart stuttered, full on skipped all the beats it was supposed to be making in his chest when he recognized Riko’s number flashing on the screen, and it was still ringing and it was ringing and it was ringing, and then it stopped. 

Neil let out a breath, and his heart started again, and now it was trying to pound its way out of his ribcage. “He’s dead Kevin,” Neil said, and his voice was rough. He cleared his throat, but then the phone started buzzing again, insistent. Riko’s number. Again. Kevin started to shake. Fuck this. “He’s dead,” Neil said. It came out stronger this time, and Neil grabbed the phone. 

“Hello?” 

“Neil?” 

“Jean?!” 

“Fuck,” Kevin scrambled for the phone, and Neil handed it off to him. “Jean? Oh my god. Jean.  _ Mon coeur. _ ” Kevin’s voice was strangled. Neil grabbed Kevin’s other hand and gripped tightly. They hadn’t talked to Jean - hadn’t seen him - in over a year. Neil watched Kevin try to speak again and fail, and motioned for Kevin to hand him the phone. When he didn’t move, Neil pried it out of Kevin’s hand carefully, switched it to speaker, and held it between them. 

“Jean? I have you on speaker,” Neil said. He could hear Jean gasping for breath on the other side of the line. He wanted to ask how Jean got Riko’s phone, he wanted to ask what was going on - he had never heard Jean sound like this - but none of that mattered. Neil took a breath, then another. “Jean,” he said steadily. “We have a plan. We are going to get you out.”

“Neil?” 

“Yes, I’m here.” 

“When?” Jean’s voice was small, shaky. Neil’s heart cracked in two. 

“As soon as we can.”

“Hurry.”  _ Pleading. _

Neil clenched his teeth. “Two weeks. Jean, can you hold on for two weeks?” Kevin’s eyes went impossibly wide. Their plan was more like months. Not two weeks. 

“Two weeks,” Jean repeated. “Do you promise?” 

Neil closed his eyes. “I promise.” 

“Okay. I- I should hang up. I should hide the phone.”

Neil clicked the phone off speaker, pushed it at Kevin. “Talk to him.” Kevin didn’t move fast enough for Neil. “Do it,” he bit out.

The command unfroze Kevin and he clutched at the phone, curled up into himself, murmured to Jean in French until he had to hang up, and then Neil wrapped around him, and Kevin broke, sobbing against Neil’s neck. 

Neil held him, soothed him. Neil didn’t cry, because Neil didn’t cry anymore. Instead he rubbed circles on Kevin’s back, hummed into his hair, and carved out a new plan, breaking the pieces down one by one and putting them back together again in his head. 


	5. Chapter 5

Neil looked like shit, but then, Kevin did too. Andrew watched them from across the circle of Monsters sitting under their tree at lunch. They had matching dark circles under their eyes and serious looks on their faces. The dark circles under Neil’s eyes weren’t necessarily unusual, but it was strange to see them on Kevin, and Neil’s face without his wry grin was disconcerting. On top of that, Andrew hadn’t heard Neil laugh once today, and usually Neil found at least five inappropriate things to laugh at in any given lunch period. 

So Andrew mostly listened while Sam recounted her conversation with Lisa on the bus yesterday, nodding at the appropriate places, but really he watched Neil and Kevin - how they were tucked closer together than usual, how Kevin didn’t finish his lunch, how Neil squeezed Kevin’s hand, brushed against his elbow, how those touches seemed like comfort. 

At some point Andrew had been surprised that the other Monsters hadn’t caught on that Neil and Kevin were together, but as he looked around the circle - Jade with her head pillowed on Mads’ knee, Mads drawing a sharpie tattoo up Aaron’s arm, and well, Sam’s leg hooked over Andrew’s, the heel of her Converse bouncing a beat against his calf - Andrew wondered idly if the only reason it seemed so obvious to him was that he knew they were married. 

It’s not like he’d ever seen them kiss. Not like he had been looking for it or anything. 

Not like he was picking at a wound, refusing to let it heal. 

“Andrew, are you even listening to me?” Sam asked, her voice amused. 

He snapped his head towards her. “Of course,” he said. “And yes, you should ask Lisa out. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

Sam snorted, tilted her head at Neil and then back at Andrew. “Yeah Andrew, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

Andrew froze, just a little, but no one had seen Sam’s movement, and she’d lowered her voice. _Of course Sam had noticed._ “Don’t,” Andrew said quietly. 

Sam gazed at him for a moment curiously, but then she nodded, resumed the bounce of her foot against his leg, and mused, “Okay, but if I am going to ask her out, I need a plan.”

Andrew forced his entire focus onto his best friend, weighing the pros and cons of date ideas with her - is roller skating juvenile or is it retro? - until lunch period was over and the Monsters packed up to head for their classes. 

Neil and Kevin fell into step with Andrew and Aaron, even though this was the wrong direction for their classes, which meant something was up. Andrew stopped, turned to look at Neil, and Aaron stopped next to him. 

God, Neil looked tired. He was just as put together as always - navy cashmere sweater snug on his torso, the sleeves pushed up his forearms, faded jeans hugging his thighs, hair styled and pushed back from his face - but he was so pale. Andrew wanted to wrap his arms around him and protect him from the world; that thought made him angry and this was getting out of hand, but he didn’t know what to do about it because just then Neil smiled - his grin at half mast but _there_ \- and there was no way in hell Andrew was going to walk away. 

“Hey, so we won’t be at practice today, just wanted to give you a heads up,” Neil said, “which of course means no extra practice.”

“Everything okay?” Aaron asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Neil said. Andrew narrowed his eyes. 

“Convincing,” Andrew said sarcastically. 

Neil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, considering how much I’ve had to lie in my life I’m not actually very good at it anymore. Everything is going to be okay, is that better?”

Andrew sidestepped that for now. “Why are you missing practice?” 

“We’re going to the Palmetto game tonight. Skipping last period to drive up.”

“You’re going to the Palmetto game tonight,” Andrew repeated. 

“Yes.” Neil nodded, rocked a bit on his heels. Andrew searched his face, but Neil didn’t say anything more. 

“You look like death warmed over.” Andrew flicked his gaze at Kevin, who was watching Neil. “Kevin doesn’t look much better. Which of you two zombies is going to drive to fucking Palmetto and back tonight?”

Neil laughed, but it was forced. “It’s fine, we’ll be fine.”

Andrew exchanged a look with Aaron, and Aaron nodded. 

“I’ll drive,” Andrew said. “Aaron and I will come with you.”

Neil’s eyes widened a bit at that, and Andrew felt like Neil was actually looking at him for the first time today, and his smile made another brief but genuine appearance on his face. “You’d have to skip your last class, and practice,” he said. 

Andrew shrugged. Aaron shrugged too. They waited. 

“Okay,” Neil said finally. “Meet us at my car at 2?” Next to him Kevin made a noise. Both of his eyebrows were raised as he stared at Neil, and he looked back and forth between Neil and Andrew. Neil glanced at Kevin, and they shared a look, but didn’t say anything, and they both turned to Andrew. 

“Okay,” Andrew agreed. Aaron nodded again, and they headed for class. 

The two hour drive to Palmetto was quiet - Andrew and Aaron in the front seats of the Audi and Kevin and Neil in the back. Andrew put on Billie Eilish at Neil’s insistence, and Kevin rolled his eyes and told Andrew he needed to introduce Neil to some new music as soon as possible - which was moot anyway, as five minutes into the ride both Kevin and Neil fell asleep, propped up against each other like two marionettes whose strings had been cut. 

Neil woke up with a jolt the moment they parked in the visitor’s deck near Palmetto State’s Foxhole Court, rubbing at his face and blinking warily for several seconds before he registered where they were. Andrew watched him through the rear-view mirror and absolutely did not get distracted by the uncharacteristically messy flop of hair that had fallen over Neil’s forehead. It was more of a feat to wake Kevin, but they finally managed to pull him from the car, and he stumbled along behind them through the box office line and into the stadium, his hand clutching tightly at the back of Neil’s sweater. 

The Foxhole Court was orange - _bright_ orange - and loud. Nicky had brought Andrew and Aaron to a game here several years ago for their birthday, and they’d also been one other time freshman year as an outing with the team, but Andrew wasn’t sure the color and the noise would ever not be a shock, no matter how many times you’d seen it. 

They settled into their seats and Kevin was finally fully awake, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring intently at the side of the court where the Foxes would appear soon. Neil had a hand on Kevin’s back, tracing small circles with his thumb, comforting again. Andrew looked away and abruptly decided to get food, announcing his intention and dragging Aaron with him. 

Aaron bopped his shoulder into Andrew’s as they waited in line for hotdogs. “You good?” 

Andrew nodded. 

“What do you think is going on?” Aaron asked. 

“Not sure,” Andrew said. 

“But something is going on,” Aaron said. 

“Something is going on,” Andrew agreed. 

“Should we be worried?” Aaron asked after a moment. 

Andrew considered the question. “Not like you mean. Neil said no one is coming after them.”

“And you trust him,” Aaron said. 

Andrew nodded again, even though it wasn’t a question. 

“So we help them,” Aaron decided.

“Obviously,” Andrew said. 

“Obviously,” Aaron agreed. 

They brought back enough hotdogs and sodas for all of them, and they’d just finished eating when the Palmetto State Foxes hit the court for warm ups - the NC State Wolfpack taking the far end. Kevin was staring at the side of the court where the Foxes’ coach - David Wymack, Andrew’s brain supplied - was standing with his arms crossed, watching his team. Neil was watching Kevin. Andrew watched them both and frowned.

Kevin didn’t tear his gaze away from Coach Wymack until the game started, and then Neil and Kevin both turned their focus to the game, watching the players and muttering to each other. They focused intently on the subs, specifically the three freshmen women - Renee Walker in goal, Allison Reynolds as defensive dealer, and Danielle Wilds as offensive dealer. 

Andrew alternated between watching Neil and watching the court. The nicest way to put it would be that the Foxes were a bit of a mess. Individually, some of the players were decent - particularly the three freshmen women - but together they were just abysmal. There was a reason the Foxes were at the bottom of the rankings for tier one teams. The Wolfpack weren’t much better though, so at least it was a somewhat even match and not a complete rout. 

By the second half, Andrew still wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing there, but he got his first clue when sophomore striker Seth Gordon slammed his own teammate into the plexiglass and threw a punch. Whistles were blown, play was stopped, the crowd booed around them, and Wymack tossed his arms up in the air. 

“Did Gordon just throw his own teammate into the wall?” Kevin asked, flabbergasted. 

Neil groaned. “Yes, yes he did.” 

“That’s going to be a problem,” Kevin said. 

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. 

Andrew frowned at them, but before he could say anything Aaron jumped in. “Why would that be a problem?” he asked, and with that question it clicked into place - at least part of it. 

“Because they are going to play here,” Andrew said. “Isn’t that right?” 

Neil looked at him, but Kevin was watching Wymack berate Gordon on the sidelines. 

“Wait, what?” Aaron sputtered. “That doesn’t make any sense. You two could play anywhere you want - I mean, don’t you want to play for Edgar Allen?” 

“No,” Kevin said, without looking back at them. 

“Fine, USC then, but the Foxes?” Aaron pushed. Andrew knew why. Palmetto was Aaron’s first choice for undergrad - their pre-med program was top notch, and it was close to Nicky and Erik. For Andrew though...well, no one had ever been recruited to the pros from Palmetto’s exy team. Andrew couldn’t risk it. Yet here was the Son of Exy himself talking about becoming a Fox. It didn’t add up, and wasn’t _that_ interesting.

The game resumed, but Andrew’s eyes were still locked on Neil. Neil had a considering look on his face as he gazed back. Andrew had to stop himself from reaching out to press his thumb into one of Neil’s dark circles, which just reminded him of the other piece of all of this. 

“I am rather curious as to why this had to happen today, when you clearly haven’t slept,” Andrew added to Aaron’s question still floating in the air.

Neil sighed. “It’s complicated,” he said. 

“We will listen if you want to explain it to us,” Andrew said carefully. 

Neil stared at him, and it seemed an eternity before he finally huffed a short sigh, dragged out a small, crooked grin. “Okay,” he said. “There is something else we have to do here first, when the game is over, but then we will tell you.” 

Fine, Andrew could be patient. He nodded, and they turned back to the game. 

Apparently Gordon was red carded even though it was his own teammate he hit, and the Foxes were now down a striker. The game had been on fairly even footing until then, but the loss of Gordon was to the Wolfpack’s advantage, and Palmetto lost 5-9. 

“That was pretty bad,” Aaron said, as the four of them sat and waited for the disappointed fans around them to clear out some. 

“Could have been worse,” Neil said

“Maybe,” Kevin said.

“There’s potential,” Neil said, pushing Kevin’s shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Kevin heaved a dramatic sigh and stood up. “No,” he said, “but there’s no other choice.”

Andrew and Aaron exchanged a glance and followed Neil and Kevin out of the stands. Instead of heading to the exit, though, the two in front of them trailed the edge of the hallway in the opposite direction of the waning crowd, down a stairwell, until they were in front of the doors that Andrew assumed led to the home team’s area. Kevin knocked hard on the orange door, and they waited, Andrew biting down on his questions. Answers were promised. He could be patient. 

The door swung open after just a minute and a security guard raised an eyebrow at them. “Are you kids lost?”

“I’m looking for Coach Wymack,” Kevin said.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t come back here without a pass,” the guard said. 

Kevin squared his shoulders. “Can you tell him that Kevin Day is here? He would want to see me.” Kevin sounded confident, but when the guard shrugged and closed the door, his shoulders slumped and he turned to Neil. His face was pale in the artificial hallway light, and the look on his face was the opposite of confident. Neil grabbed his hand and squeezed briefly before he let it go and Kevin straightened again just in time for the door to open.

“Come with me,” the guard said, a surprised look on his face. 

They followed him through the hallway on the other side of the door - more orange, of course. It was quieter than Andrew had expected, and he wondered if the team had already managed to shower and clear out. Their own team didn’t lose very often, but they certainly didn’t linger in the locker rooms when they did. 

The guard stopped in front of an unassuming door, knocked on it for them, and then ushered them in, and just like that they were standing in front of David Wymack, coach of the Palmetto State Foxes exy team. He had shed the button-down he wore for the game, and tribal flame tattoos peeked out of the sleeves of the white t-shirt he now wore. They’d seen him from the stands earlier, but up close his black hair was peppered with grey, ruffled like he’d been running a hand through it, and he had intense green eyes that Andrew had seen before, that Andrew had seen in Kevin’s face, and _oh._

Aaron must have had the same realization that he did, because he squeaked and edged closer to Andrew, bumping into his arm. Neil threw a warning look over his shoulder at them just as Wymack came out from behind the desk, an easy smile on his face. 

“Kevin Day! I’m surprised to see you, but happy to meet you finally. Your mom was a good friend - an amazing woman. Anyway, the fuck you doing in Palmetto?” He shook Kevin’s hand, glancing around at all of them. 

“We came up for the game, sir.” Kevin’s voice was steady, and it was a tone Andrew hadn’t heard out of him before - he sounded like he was on a job interview. “Neil and I just recently moved to Columbia.” 

Wymack looked at Neil for the first time and Andrew saw his eyes widen a touch. Yeah, everybody knew about Nathaniel Wesninski, and that hair and those eyes didn’t really help him to blend in. “Neil is it?” he said, but he didn’t argue, shaking Neil’s hand. 

“And our friends Aaron and Andrew Minyard.” Kevin gestured to them. Wymack shook their hands too, apparently that was the thing. 

“As much as I’d like to flatter myself, I’m getting the idea that this isn’t just a social visit. What can I do for you boys?” Wymack crossed his rather impressive forearms and leaned against his desk. 

“We have a home game tomorrow night. In Columbia. We’re all on the exy team. I was hoping you could come down for it,” Kevin said, rushing his words. 

Neil stepped up, put a steadying hand on Kevin’s elbow. “Kevin’s a senior, as you probably know. I understand this is unusual in the recruiting process, but he’s interested in playing here, if you’d have him.”

The look on Wymack’s face was comical, and Andrew would be tempted to laugh except for the tension he could see in both Kevin and Neil’s shoulders. “If I’d have him...are you fucking with me?”

“No, sir,” Kevin said. “We also have a backliner who is interested in playing for the Foxes as well. He’s a senior too, and is incredibly talented.”

“And me,” Neil said. “I’m just a junior, but I’m a striker, and I’m good. I will sign wherever Kevin does, and I’m willing to sign early.” Andrew snorted at that. Neil was better than _good._ Aaron elbowed him, and Andrew would elbow him back but he was about to do a thing, so instead he took a breath, took a leap of faith, and stepped forward. 

“And me,” Andrew said. Kevin and Neil both whipped around to look at him, but he ignored them, his eyes on Wymack. “Andrew Minyard. I’m the goalie at Columbia High School. I’ll sign wherever these two do.”

“Andrew!” Aaron whisper-yelled next to him, but Andrew batted him away and Wymack stood up from his desk. 

“Andrew Minyard, starting goalie, and currently being scouted by no less than Duke University, Auburn, and Georgia Tech - although you too are only a junior,” Wymack mused. “Yes, I know who you are.”

Neil was still turned, staring at him. Andrew nodded tersely, tilted his head towards Wymack, and Neil turned back around, his small smile ghosting his lips. 

“So let me get this straight,” Wymack said, uncrossing his arms. “Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard want to play for the Foxes, along with this kid,” he nodded at Neil, “who says he’s a good striker, and some backliner that Kevin vouches for?” 

“Yes, sir,” Kevin nodded. 

“You boys know what kind of players I recruit?”

“We fit your criteria,” Neil said, lifting his chin.

“Shit. Right, but - goddamnit, what’s the catch? I believe in my program, but all three of the schools already looking at Minyard here are ranked higher than we are. And Kevin - I thought you’d be playing for Edger Allen, or at least the Trojans.” Aaron snorted this time, and Andrew elbowed _him._

“There is something else,” Neil said. 

It was Wymack’s turn to snort. “Of course there is. Well, lay it on me kid.”

“The backliner. We need you to sign him sight unseen. You won’t get a chance to see him play beforehand. You just have to trust us.”

“Trust you,” Wymack repeated. “Where is this backliner? He got a name?”

“Come see us play tomorrow,” Neil said. “Let us know if you are interested in the deal, and we’ll tell you.”

Wymack tapped the edge of the desk, considering them. “This is unusual,” he finally said, “and you aren’t telling me something. I don’t like it.” His tone was gruff, but not unkind. 

Neil and Kevin exchanged glances, and Kevin gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Neil turned. “We’ll give you a minute.” He herded Andrew and Aaron out of the office, closed the door behind them, and they moved a little way down the hall. Neil’s face was tight, and he was staring at the door.

“What the fuck Andrew!” Aaron said. “Why did you do that?”  
  
Andrew shrugged. “You know why. Neil and Kevin are going to go pro. If Palmetto is the best place for them then it is the best place for me.”

“Andrew-” Aaron started. 

“No, it’s where I would go if exy wasn’t a consideration,” Andrew turned to Neil. “You’re going pro. And Kevin. And you are going to do it here.”

Neil nodded. “Yes.”

“See Aaron? It’s fine. I saw an opportunity and I took it.” Andrew knew he sounded calm but his blood was rushing. Neil shuffled closer to him, his arm pressing against his and Andrew leaned back, and changed the subject. “So, does Wymack know that he is Kevin’s father?”

That startled a laugh out of Neil. “They do look surprisingly alike don’t they?” He sobered and looked at the door again. “I imagine he’s finding out right now.”

“Fuck,” Aaron breathed. 

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. 

They waited in silence. When Kevin finally came out of the office, he was alone, and impossibly paler than he was when they’d gone in there. They watched him walk slowly towards them, and the closer he got, the tenser Neil got, his arm still against Andrew, and Andrew resisted the urge to grab his hand. 

Kevin stopped in front of them, took a deep breath. “He’ll come,” he said. 

Neil sagged in response to that announcement, all the tension seeping out of him as he collapsed, and Andrew was startled into wrapping an arm around Neil’s waist to hold him up. 

Kevin narrowed his eyes at Neil. “You said you weren’t worried about this part,” he said accusingly. 

“That’s not what I said. I said it would probably be fine,” Neil countered. 

Kevin was still glaring at him. “I don’t recall ‘probably’ being part of the conversation this morning.” 

Neil shrugged one shoulder - the other one still plastered against Andrew. “I had two back up plans,” he said. 

“You didn’t tell me-” 

“I want waffles,” Andrew said, cutting them off. Kevin blinked at him. Neil managed to stand up straight to give him a look, and Andrew dropped his arm. 

“It’s only 8,” Aaron mused, “Sweeties will still be open when we get back to Columbia.” 

“Waffles and story time, what do you say?” Andrew said to Neil and Kevin, one eyebrow raised. 

Neil laughed. “Waffles and story time it is,” he said, before turning to Kevin. “You okay?” he asked softly. Kevin nodded but he looked delicate, and Neil opened his arms to hug him. 

Andrew tugged Aaron away down the hall to give them a moment, because in the midst of whatever else was going on, Kevin Fucking Day had just met his father for the first time. 

***

Sweeties was a faded and friendly retro diner on the outskirts of Columbia and Neil was half in love with it already. They snagged a booth in the back, far away from any other tables, which was good, because Andrew wanted answers and Neil found that, oddly, he wanted to give them to him - but he had no idea where to start. 

Andrew finished his waffle first, twirled his hand in the air, and said, “So, Palmetto State. And something about a backliner. And something happened between yesterday and today to make this an urgent thing.” 

“You don’t have to tell us anything,” Aaron cut in. 

“Yes you do,” Andrew countered. 

Aaron ignored him and tried again. “You don’t have to tell us anything, but if you want to - if we can help...you know we can keep a secret.” 

Neil took a bite of waffle, looked at Kevin next to him, who nodded back. Some color had come back into his face - he’d managed another two hours of sleep on the ride back to Columbia. 

So they were doing this. Okay. Jean seemed like the most relevant starting point, so Neil started there. “We have a friend, he’s still at Edgar Allen. We had a plan this year to get him out, but we thought we had time. He called us last night - we haven’t been able to reach him for a year - and we realized he still isn’t safe, so, we needed to move faster.”

“Safe?” Andrew repeated.

“Mmmm, yeah. So. Hmm. Okay this is going to be a lot. I think this is where we fully abandon the hope for normal,” Neil said. 

Kevin made an incomprehensible sound at that, and proceeded to stab a fork at Neil’s waffle. “Just tell them,” he said around the pilfered bite. 

Neil sighed, eyeballing his stolen waffle, and started again. “Right. Okay, so, you already know about my father, all of that - what did you call it? Murder stabby torture stuff,” Neil grinned. “Well, my father worked for someone. A family of someones really. The Moriyamas.” 

Aaron frowned at that. “As in Riko Moriyama?”

Neil nodded. Fuck he was tired, but he plowed on, his voice lowered. “Exactly. The Moriyamas are the largest organized crime syndicate in the United States. They basically own the Ravens under Tetsuji Moriyama’s hand and Riko had free rein to do as he pleased - and he had, ah, rather singular tastes. Some of that torture stuff, lighter on the murder stabby I think, but who knows. He’s also the one who broke Kevin’s hand.”

“So, that’s why no Edgar Allen for you,” Andrew mused. 

“Right,” Neil agreed, stealing his waffle back from Kevin.

“Neil spent summers with me and Jean in the Nest once Tetsuji decided Riko and I needed players our age to practice with,” Kevin added. “So Neil was there when Riko snapped, and he was able to get me out, but we had to leave Jean.”

“Jean is your friend. The mysterious backliner?” Aaron asked. 

“Yes,” Kevin said, but he was looking steadily at Andrew when he added, “Jean is my boyfriend.”

Niel snorted. “That’s a stupid word to describe you two,” he said with a yawn, giving up on the waffle and shoving it back to Kevin. “You have certainly gotten very blurty since we moved to South Carolina.” 

“What the fuck does blurty even mean?” Kevin asked. 

“As in you blurt things out,” Neil said. “Hi I’m Kevin I have a husband, hi I’m Kevin I have a boyfriend.” 

Aaron cleared his throat. “Can we get back to the part where Kevin has a boyfriend?” 

Neil looked up, realizing that Andrew and Aaron had gone very still at Kevin’s announcement, and Andrew’s gaze was piercing him through. 

“Ah, yeah,” Neil said, straightening. “More not normal?”

“You two are married,” Andrew said. His voice was soft. Unrecognizable. 

“We are,” Neil agreed. “But it’s not like that.”

Aaron frowned. “What’s not like that?”

“Kevin and I aren’t - we aren’t together like that. Not like Kevin and Jean. It’s because of Ichirou, he’s really just a dick sometimes, a bit of a twisted sense of humor really, but I mean, it’s all fine it’s not like-”  
  
“Neil,” Kevin interrupted. “You are babbling.”

“Fuck you, I am not.”

“Neil,” Andrew said, and his voice was still soft, still unrecognizable but his face was pained. Neil wanted to reach across the table to him, and really, he just wanted to sleep, but okay, he could clarify, even though he really hated this part. 

“Jean is property. His family sold him to the Moriyamas to pay a debt. Kevin was an investment - not really property, but not really free. I was the Butcher’s son - I was being raised to take over for him, so nobody owned me but my father. Everything just happened at the same time that summer - I was able to get Kevin out but not Jean. Kevin’s hand was ruined, he was of no more use to the Ravens, so when I left he came with me.”

“I didn’t want to leave Jean there,” Kevin said. “I wanted to stay.”

Neil nodded at him. “You did, but I told you then and it is still true - it would have been harder for me to get you both out later.” Neil looked back across the table. “I have family, on my mom’s side - they are not the Moriyamas but they are powerful in their own right. I was planning something with my Uncle Stuart, to get my freedom. So, everything you saw go down in the news when I killed my father-”

“What?” Aaron squawked. 

“What, what?” Neil blinked at him.

“So many things,” Aaron said. “You are the one who shot your father?”

“Yes,” Neil said, and he felt that fucking smile crawling onto his face, the one that wasn’t his, but then someone kicked him under the table, and he looked up at Andrew. 

“Keep going,” Andrew said. His voice was finally back to normal, but his face was blank, hazel eyes trained intently on Neil. 

“Right. So, my uncle Stuart and I took down my father’s empire - the details of which aren’t important - except for the fact that, for various reasons Lord Ichirou - he’s the head of the Moriyama family now - he sort of owed me a favor or two. By then Kevin’s hand was healed, Riko was dead, and Ichirou wanted to send Kevin back to the Nest. I claimed a boon - claimed that Kevin belonged to me, that the two of us would be better together, that we would go pro and separate ourselves from the Moriyamas for good. In return, Stuart would take over for my father instead of me, and we would owe half of our lifetime earnings to the Family - but we would be free.”

“Tell them the other part,” Kevin said, prompting him. Neil glared at him briefly, but went on. 

“I had just barely turned sixteen when this all went down. I think Ichirou found me amusing. He told me to prove that Kevin belonged with me. So I did.”

“You married him,” Andrew said. 

“We got married, yes,” Neil said. 

“So the marriage is real,” Andrew said. 

“I told you it was. I haven’t lied to you,” Neil said. 

“But Kevin has a boyfriend,” Andrew said. 

Neil furrowed his brow. “Yes,” he agreed. He was missing something, but he was too tired to figure it out. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe he’d be able to sleep tonight.

Andrew leaned away from the table and crossed his arms. “So, the plan is to trade yourselves to the Foxes to get an offer for Jean sight unseen, and if Kevin Son-of-Exy Day himself wasn’t enough to offer, maybe Kevin Day son-of-David Wymack would be,” he said.

Kevin looked at Neil. “You told them?” 

Neil shrugged. “They figured it out.” He turned back to Andrew. “Yes, that’s half of it. The other half is that Kevin and I can turn that team around, particularly with Jean at our side, and-” Neil hesitated for the first time, searching Andrew’s face, ”-and with you too Andrew, if you meant what you said in Wymack’s office.”

“I always mean what I say,” Andrew said. 

“I know.” Neil smiled at him. He did know. “We’re using ourselves to bargain with Wymack, but also with Ichirou. If we can get Wymack to offer us places on the team along with Jean, then we can take that to Ichirou as an argument that Jean will make more money for the Family if he’s playing with us, that he’ll be more known, get recruited to a better pro team.”

“We mean to cause a stir at Palmetto,” Kevin said. “We will garner more attention with a team that we can drag from the bottom of the rankings to the top than if we were with the Trojans or any other team that is already in the top three.”

“Plus, your dad,” Andrew said. 

“Yeah,” Kevin said, a bit weakly. “That.”

“How did you know? That he is your dad?” Aaron asked.

“Neil found a letter my mom wrote to Tetsuji.” Kevin shrugged like it was no big deal, but it clearly was. Neil took Kevin’s hand, twined their fingers, saw Andrew’s gaze flicker to that movement and then away. “We didn’t want that to be something we had to use against him, the plan had been to get him to our games as a natural progression of the season, so he would see Neil play, then make him the deal once he already knew he wanted us on the team. But after talking to Jean last night…” Kevin trailed off, and Neil could see he was just _done_ with today. 

“We had to move faster. This was the way to do it,” Neil said. “Listen, I know this is a lot...”

Andrew held his hand up, and Neil waited while he and Aaron exchanged a long look before turning back to them. “How can we help?” Aaron said. 

Neil sighed, plopping his elbows on the table and dropped his chin on his hands. He smiled at them. “If Andrew really wants to play with us at Palmetto, that will help. It’s more bargaining power with both Wymack and Ichirou.” He looked specifically at Andrew. “But I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for us.”

“It’s not just for you,” Andrew said. “Aaron wants to go pre-med at Palmetto, I want to go pro.” Aaron shifted next to Andrew, threw a subtle glance and eyebrow raise his way, but didn’t interrupt. “I didn’t think Palmetto was an option for me. But if the two of you are going there, it is.”

“Good,” Neil said, his smile widening. “So we just need to thoroughly thrash Broughton High tomorrow and impress the fuck out of Coach Wymack.”

One of Andrew’s rare grins crept onto his face, and he leaned forward onto the table. “Oh, I think we can manage that.” 

“Yes,” Neil said, gazing back at him. “Yes, I think we can.”

Neil was still smiling when Andrew pulled into their driveway a short while later. He told Andrew to just keep the Audi for the night - he and Kevin could take the Jeep to school in the morning. Andrew stared at him, then nodded once. “Get some sleep Neil,” he said, and then he and Aaron were gone. 

Neil and Kevin got ready for bed wearily, teeth brushed, sleep clothes on. It was just barely past 11 p.m. and Neil had a chance for some real sleep barring any unexpected phone calls or new disasters, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of relief that the first part of their plan was done, had gone off without a hitch - and that he had Andrew at his back. 

With that thought, something snagged in Neil’s mind: Kevin watching Andrew across the table. Kevin being uncharacteristically blurty. He crawled into bed, trying to ferret it out. “Kev?”

“Mphhh?” Kevin was starfished across the bed, his face buried in a pillow. 

“Why did you tell Andrew and Aaron that Jean is your boyfriend?” Neil asked.

Kevin twisted his face out of the pillow to look at him. “Because he is,” he said carefully.

“There are a lot of things that _are_ that we didn’t bring up tonight. They didn’t have to know that. You brought it up on purpose. Why?”

Kevin sighed and sat up. “I don’t suppose we can save this conversation until morning?”

“Nope,” Neil said, sure now that something was up. “Spill.”

“I wanted Andrew to know,” Kevin said. 

“Why?”

“Think about it Neil. You trust him. How many people do you trust?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “You know the answer to that question.”

“Right, so me. Jean. And now Andrew. That’s a big deal.”

“So?”

“So not only do you trust him, but you let him take care of you.”  
  
“I don’t know what you mean,” Neil evaded. 

“Yes you do. The locker room after the Westbrook game? Then you fell asleep on him after that. You let him drive today - shit you let him _come_ today. There was no way we weren’t going to have to tell them what was going on after that was decided. You lean on him. You let him take care of you, Neil. You don’t let anyone else do that.”

“I let you take care of me,” Neil said, confused. 

Kevin smiled softly. “Not really. You are too busy taking care of me and Jean and everyone else to let us take care of you back.”

“What are you saying Kevin?”

“I’m saying - what if you have a chance for something more? What if you can have what Jean and I have together?”  
  
“But I don’t want that,” Neil said.

“Are you sure?” Kevin asked softly. “Just because you didn’t want that with me or Jean, doesn’t mean you don’t want that with anyone.” 

Neil frowned. He and Jean and Kevin had been close since their first summer together at the Nest. All three of them had been touch starved, hungry and desperate for affection that wasn’t chased with pain. It had been Neil and Jean and Kevin tangled together in friendship until the summer Jean and Kevin were fourteen, Neil thirteen, and they had hidden away in Kevin’s room, trading first kisses. It had been fine, really. Neil hadn’t hated it. But it hadn’t meant to him what it had clearly meant to Kevin and Jean. He briefly entertained the thought of kissing someone else, and his traitorous mind supplied an image of Andrew’s face, and he shoved _that_ aside. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Neil said stupidly, and that wasn’t what he meant to say really, but he didn’t take it back. 

“Listen to me Neil. We are complicated, I get that. But it’s not an impossible situation. We are married and you are my family. Nothing will ever change that. But I get to have Jean, and if there is a chance for you to have that with someone…I am not saying that it has to be Andrew. But I think you two should have a conversation. And I want you to know that whatever the outcome of that conversation, I’m not here to stand in the way of it.”

Neil stared at him. “You are making a lot of assumptions,” he muttered. 

“Maybe,” Kevin said. “Maybe not. I’m just suggesting that you think about it.”

Neil hummed. He didn’t want to do this right now. “Okay,” he finally said. 

“Okay. Good. Can we go the fuck to sleep now?” Kevin asked, plopping back on the bed and pulling Neil into his arms. 

“Oh my god yes.” Neil pulled away briefly to turn off the lamp, and then curled up on Kevin’s shoulder again. 

“Tell me the things,” Kevin murmured as they settled. 

Neil squeezed Kevin tight. “It went better than we could have hoped today Kev. We’ve got Andrew now too, and it’s a good plan. We’re going to get him out. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Thank you,” Kevin mumbled into his hair. 

Neil finally heaved a sigh, closed his eyes, sank into the bed and into Kevin. He meant it. Today had gone well and now they had Andrew, who had stepped forward and stood by their side. It was a good plan. They were going to get Jean out, and get him out soon. Everything was going to be okay. 

As he drifted off to sleep his brain stubbornly returned again and again to the night Andrew had painted green polish on his nails - the night when Neil’s breath had caught on golden hazel eyes and a calloused palm warm beneath his fingers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [playlist for when your boy has a husband and the bluest eyes you ever did see](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7y0Q3D2TfWGpDYAOIWzY9v?si=k2avokulQ_ScXpNci3NwAA)

They didn’t talk about it when they got home last night, and they didn’t talk about it at breakfast - Andrew yawning over his soggy cereal because he didn’t get his usual nine hours of sleep. They still didn’t talk about it on the drive to school in the Audi that wasn’t theirs. Andrew thought that maybe he was going to get away with not talking about it at all, but as he parked the car in the student lot and pulled the handbrake, Aaron asked, “So, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Andrew asked. 

“Neil,” Aaron said. Like that was an answer in and of itself. (It kind of was.)

“What about him?”

Aaron rolled his eyes and shoved Andrew’s shoulder. “Really? _Really_ Andrew?”

“Really _what_ Aaron?” he said stubbornly.

“Okay, you’re going to make me do this then. The gorgeous, interesting, clever, good-at-exy redhead that you have been staring at surreptitiously since he arrived on the metaphorical doorstep of Columbia is apparently, actually, possibly _available-_ ”

“He’s better than _good_ at exy,” Andrew muttered, interrupting.

Aaron ignored him and kept going “-and has been surreptitiously staring right back at you this whole time.”

“He has not,” Andrew said, because that wasn’t true, was it? But Aaron was on a roll. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see the look he gave you when you were painting his nails. Don’t think I didn’t see him fall asleep on you after the Westbrook game. Don’t think I didn’t see him lean into you at Palmetto yesterday. He. Is. Looking. Back.”

Andrew stared at his brother. “I don’t think that is true,” he said, but he was feeling less confident.

“Look, I just...I’ve never seen you like someone before. Not like you like him. It’s been hard to watch. I don’t want to see your heart smashed, and it’s seemed like that is the course you were on - but now, maybe there’s a chance, where there was no hope of one before.”

“Dramatic,” Andrew said, and Aaron shrugged. 

They sat. Andrew fiddled with the keys. “So Palmetto, huh,” Aaron said finally.

“Yeah,” Andrew said. 

“I don’t really believe it yet. It’s a chance for us to be at the same school if this works. Together. Close to home.”

“I know,” Andrew said. 

“You never really told me you wanted to go pro,” Aaron said. 

“I know,” Andrew said. 

“You know, you know, okay _fine._ Talk to Neil though.” 

“Can this stop, like right now?” Andrew felt his ears warm.

“Sure,” Aaron agreed. “I just love you okay? I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.” He started to get out of the car. Andrew reached out to grab his arm, to stop him. 

“I love you too, asshole. And I _am_ okay.”

Aaron nodded, and his smile was Andrew’s favorite. He got out of the car, and Andrew stayed, fiddling with the keys a while longer before he pulled out his phone, opened up Spotify, started fiddling with that instead. Eventually he got out of the car, headed to class, and he was absolutely not thinking about Neil. 

He was absolutely not thinking about Neil in English class when he pulled his phone out under his desk, added a few more songs to his list. 

He was absolutely not thinking about Neil in pre-calc when he searched for the Velvet Underground song playing on a loop in his brain and added it to the list. 

He was absolutely not thinking about Neil when he tapped at his phone once more in American civ, adding a few Mallrat songs because it reminded him of Billie Eilish, and Neil loved Billie Eilish and...nope. 

At lunch Neil and Kevin plopped down closer to Andrew and Sam than usual. Jade sat next to Kevin a moment later, and after adjusting her headphones so only one ear was covered, she propped her head on his knee, smiling up at him beautifully while munching on carrots and tapping her foot. Kevin looked startled for only a moment before petting Jade’s braids carefully and opening his lunch bag. Something settled a bit in Andrew as he watched Kevin eat his hummus wrap, one hand resting gently on Jade’s shoulder, the other holding his lunch so it wouldn’t fall on her face. He’d been officially adopted by the shyest of the Monsters, then. 

Neil hadn’t said much since he sat down, eating his own hummus wrap and alternating between staring into space and sneaking looks at Andrew. Andrew was looking for it now, after his conversation with Aaron - even if he wasn’t actually _looking_ at Neil - and he could feel those blue eyes land on him and then flit away. Sam was drawing little bees on the back of Andrew’s hand and when she ran out of space she crooked a finger at Neil. He scooted closer, to give her his hand, which meant his knee bumped up against Andrew’s, and he left it there. 

Andrew tore his turkey sandwich into tiny bits, watched Sam draw while he ate, noticed that Neil’s nail polish was chipped. When Andrew looked up Neil was looking at him and not at Sam’s bees. “We need to paint your nails again,” Andrew said. 

“We can do it tomorrow at movie night,” Sam said without looking up. 

Neil bit his bottom lip and Andrew looked away from his mouth. “Not sure that we’ll make it tomorrow,” Neil said. 

“What?” Sam squawked, and the bee she was drawing on Neil’s thumb went haywire. “You have to come! It’s Andrew’s birthday tomorrow!” 

“Hey!” Aaron cut in. “It’s my birthday too!” 

“Fine, it’s the Twinyard’s birthday tomorrow. You have to come,” Sam said.

Jade snorted. “Twinyards,” she repeated with a snicker. 

“Twinyards,” Sam affirmed and pointed at Jade. “I’m copyrighting that,” she said with a giggle.

Andrew rolled his eyes and Neil grinned, but he pulled his bottom lip back between his teeth when he looked at Andrew. 

“I told you to stop that, you are going to bite your lip off,” Andrew said and he didn’t stop himself from reaching out, and Neil stilled, let Andrew pull his lip carefully from between his teeth, and Andrew’s thumb lingered just a second too long at the corner of Neil’s mouth. Neil let out a breath, staring at Andrew - and Andrew’s ears turned pink as he realized what he’d just done and where they were.

Next to him Sam ducked her head, hummed a bit with a shit eating grin on her face, and Andrew kicked her shoe, which had the unfortunate effect of sending another of Neil’s bees wonky. Andrew realized just then that Aaron and Kevin were watching him with matching smirks on their faces, and he resolutely did not look at Neil’s face again before he flopped back dramatically and said, “Shut up,” to the universe in general. 

***

That night they annihilated Broughton High 0-12 and Andrew’s face split in a fierce grin that was new, but it belonged to him, _it did,_ because he had shut down the fucking goal - _shut it down._

He’d played the whole game; Sam had been cool with relinquishing her time in the goal, and Hernandez agreed once they explained about Coach Wymack. Neil and Kevin had been a blur in front of him, and he realized ten minutes into the game that they had been holding back before. This was them playing for _real,_ this was them moving in tandem, anticipating each other’s moves, adjusting their tactics at the turn of a dime, passing, dodging, pushing, scoring: this was them not being _nice._ Mads and Aaron too; no one was pulling any punches tonight, and his backliners were staunch and impenetrable before him, more fired up than usual, wild and strong and this - _this_ is what Andrew was meant to be doing. 

The final buzzer sang and Andrew was tired, so fucking tired, but he was on fire, burning up from the inside, watching in a hum of adrenaline as Kevin wrapped his arms around Neil, as they both slung an arm around Sam - who had stormed the court, as Aaron hopped up and down with Mads, as Jade crashed into Kevin once he let Neil go. Neil turned to look at him from across the court, and then he was running, a tiny freight train of lithe striker that launched at Andrew. Andrew dropped his racket and caught him because of course he did, holding on for dear life as Neil’s feet left the ground. Neil whispered, “We fucking did it!” fiercely in Andrew’s ear before he slid down, and their chest armor ensnared, briefly locking them together. Neil laughed, his breath close to Andrew’s face as they untangled themselves. 

Afterward they sat, freshly showered and glowing with victory in Hernandez’s office, Wymack with his arms crossed, leaning on the desk, mirroring the same pose he’d settled into at Palmetto the day before. Neil, Kevin, Andrew, and Aaron too - because Wymack waited by the side of the court as they were filing off to the locker rooms, stopped Kevin and said, “Shower up, meet me in your coach’s office in fifteen - bring both Minyards, and the Wesninski kid,” which Kevin had reported back to the three of them, his face simultaneously jubilant and tense. 

They couldn’t have played better, but whatever Wymack had to say to them now was the lynchpin in their plan - he could secure everything or he could topple the whole thing to the ground. 

“That was an impressive game,” Wymack said, betraying nothing as he surveyed the four of them, his gaze snagging on Kevin. 

“Thank you,” Kevin said, and he was reserved and stiff. 

“Look kids, I’m not going to beat around the fucking bush - I would be an idiot if I didn’t sign you, and I think you know that already,” Wymack started, and Andrew heard Neil suck in a breath and hold it. 

“But?” Kevin asked carefully.

“But I need you to tell me about this backliner. I need to know what I am getting into here.”

They all four exchanged a look while Wymack waited, and finally Neil shrugged, and told him a rather edited version of what they’d told the twins over waffles the night before - that Jean Moreau was as good a backliner as Kevin and Neil were strikers, that he was beholden to the Ravens, that it wasn’t a healthy situation, that they thought these contracts with Palmetto would get him out, to the benefit of Wymack’s team.

Wymack listened, nodded, read between the lines. When Neil finished, he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Okay. I think there is more that you aren’t telling me, but I can’t say this isn’t something I haven’t wondered before about the Ravens and Tetsuji Moriyama, so I am just going to believe you have told me what you could.” Wymack paused, considering them for a moment before continuing. “So here’s the deal. It’s pretty unusual to sign a junior early - I shouldn’t have any problems with Minyard here - he’s a known entity. But Wesninski? No one knows you play, although after watching you today I’m pretty sure that’s going to change very soon. I need to present this to the board, but if I can clear it - the answer is yes. I want you three on my team, and I’ll sign Jean Moreau sight unseen.”

Neil let out a long breath, sinking down in his chair an inch, and Kevin made a choked sound, reaching for Neil’s hand. Neil grabbed it, straightened, cleared his throat. “That is good news Coach. Really good news. When will you have an answer for us?”

“In a hurry?” Wymack asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“Yes,” Neil said, and as Wymack studied Neil his face sobered, and he nodded seriously.

“Jesus. Okay kid, I’ll push it as hard as I can. I’m going to fight for you, and one day you are going to tell me everything that is going on, deal?”

“Yes Coach,” Neil said. 

Wymack nodded. “Alright. I should be able to get you an answer by Monday, Tuesday at the latest.” He looked at Kevin again. “Could you boys give me a moment with Kevin?”

They started to file out, Kevin frozen in his chair, and just as they reached the door Wymack called out again, “Oh, and Aaron? You’re a pretty damn good backliner yourself. Let’s talk next year - if you’re interested.” Aaron gaped at him, and Andrew nodded for him before dragging his brother out the door. 

“What does that mean?” Aaron squeaked once the door was closed. 

“It means he wants you to be a Fox, if you want,” Neil said, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. 

“But I am nowhere near as good as you three!” Aaron protested, looking at Andrew with wide eyes. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Andrew said. “You’re still good. And you like playing.”

Neil had opened his eyes again and he nodded. “You are a solid backliner Aaron. Not everyone who plays in college wants to go pro. It would pay for your tuition at the very least.”

Aaron’s eyes got impossibly wider. “Fuck,” he said wonderingly, and Neil laughed, the tension rolling off his shoulders a bit. 

Kevin and Wymack emerged from the office, Kevin looking less pale than he had the last time, and Wymack shook all of their hands again before taking his leave. 

“What did he say?” Aaron asked Kevin.

“Ah, he wants to spend time with me. Get to know me,” Kevin said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Kev, that’s good,” Neil said, his half smile in place. 

“Yeah,” Kevin said, shrugging a little, but he was clearly happy about this development.

“So,” Neil said, the rest of his smile settling on his face as he turned back to the twins. “We’ll see you tomorrow then. Twinyard’s birthday.”

“Oh god,” Aaron groaned. “That’s going to be a thing now isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” Neil agreed. 

“You don’t have to come,” Andrew said, looking at Neil. 

“Oh we’re coming,” Neil said. “Kevin’s gonna Google cake recipes on the way home.”

“Don’t forget the chocolate chips this time,” Andrew said. 

“Or the egg,” Kevin muttered.

“What?” Aaron said.

“Oh, nothing,” Neil hummed, tucked his arm into Kevin’s and started walking away. “See you tomorrow Twinyards!”

“Don’t you want your car?” Aaron called after him. 

“Keep it - it can be your birthday car rental. I’ll get it tomorrow,” he winked, smiled, and they were gone. 

***

Neil and Kevin showed up promptly at 3 pm the next day and proudly presented Aaron and Andrew with two of the ugliest cakes Andrew had ever seen, explaining with a grin that two birthdays required two cakes. Andrew helped them slide the lopsided cakes onto the counter, throwing a very pointed look at Nicky that said _I know you bought a cake, go hide it right now and don’t you dare bring it out tonight._

They had Thanksgiving for birthday dinner because they always did - mashed potatoes and stuffing and a very large turkey, along with roasted vegetables and mac and cheese and cranberry sauce. Erik had done most of the prep ahead of time, but Andrew made sure Neil would have some garlic to whack for the mashed potatoes, and he felt warmth pool in his belly when Neil twirled his knife nonchalantly and got to it, the menace.

The Monsters voted to put the Neil and Kevin movie project on hold so Andrew and Aaron could pick the movies for their birthday - Labyrinth for Andrew and Sixteen Candles for Aaron - although Kevin and Neil shrugged saying they’d never seen them anyway, to which Sam groaned and said, “But _Bowie_ guys, come on!” 

They watched Labyrinth first, waiting for the turkey to finish, Nicky and Aaron saying the lines dramatically along with Phoebe Cates, Mads and Sam singing the songs with Bowie at the top of their lungs. Andrew watched Neil watching them, watched his little smile. 

At dinner Neil leaned towards Andrew. “I liked that movie. It was weird.”

“Of course you did. You’re weird,” Andrew said, focusing on building the perfect bite of turkey, stuffing, and mashed potato. He topped it with a single smooshy cranberry. Neil watched him take the bite, turned to his own plate and copied him. 

“Oh,” Neil said, eyes widening after he finished his own bite. “That’s really good.”

“Well yeah,” Sam said. “Wait. Just. Don’t tell me. You two have never had Thanksgiving food before have you?” 

Neil and Kevin exchanged a look. “Okay, I won’t tell you,” Neil said, and he grinned. Sam threw a brussel sprout at him. 

They ate so much that no one was ready for cake right after dinner so they started Sixteen Candles. Neil settled next to Andrew on the couch, Sam on his other side. Jade was using Kevin’s fingers again to make bracelets. Sam pulled out her bag of polish, and they picked a color for the week - a deep ocean blue.

When Andrew was done with Sam’s nails he tugged at Neil’s wrist. “Blue?” he asked with the tiniest raise of his eyebrow, holding up the bottle. Neil nodded and turned to face him cross legged on the couch, a wisp of auburn hair falling over his forehead as he leaned forwards. Andrew took his right hand firmly, scrubbing off the old polish first before he started. Andrew could hear Neil’s quiet breaths, feel the warmth of his hand in his. 

He was getting used to wanting things and he _wanted_ this and it was unsettling.

Andrew forced his heartbeat into submission, moved to Neil’s other hand, gripped his thumb, applied the little brush. Neil was watching him and not the movie. Andrew looked up, catching his gaze, realized that the color of the polish was a deeper tone but still the same shade of blue as Neil’s eyes. 

“Why didn’t you want to come today? Before you knew it was our birthday?” Andrew asked him quietly.

Neil shrugged lightly, careful not to move his hands. “I’m stressed, Kevin’s on edge. We didn’t think we’d be any fun so…” 

“Hmm,” Andrew said, as he started on the second coat. “But there’s nothing you can do until you have the offers from Wymack.”

“Right,” Neil said. 

“So we might as well distract you.” 

“Yes,” Neil agreed quietly. 

Andrew hummed again, and was quiet, applying the last coat of polish to Neil’s pinky. He leaned closer to blow across Neil’s fingers, not thinking before he said, “Go somewhere with me tomorrow.” 

Neil looked at him intently. Glanced over at Kevin, who was watching them, and Kevin nodded. “Okay,” Neil said finally. “Where?” 

“Just a place I like. It will be a good distraction,” he said, holding onto Neil’s hand for another minute before letting it go. 

“Good,” Jade piped up from the other side of them where she was tucked next to Kevin. “Then I can borrow Kevin to drive me to the fancy craft store.” Kevin huffed a laugh at her and agreed, and Aaron turned around to glare at them, so they shut up.

After the second movie they divvied up slices of cake and sat in a circle on the floor in the den, plates in hand. Aaron’s cake was strawberry with a very sad looking whipped cream icing on it that was actually kind of amazing. 

“Mhhmmm,” Mads moaned on the first bite of his strawberry slice. “No one’s gonna call it pretty, but this is one delicious cake, so much better than a boxed mix.” 

Andrew caught Neil staring at Mads as he took another bite, and then he turned to Kevin and Andrew heard him whisper, _“It comes in boxed mix?”_ Kevin shrugged. 

Andrew hid a burgeoning grin in the first bite of his own cake and oh. That. _Oh._ Andrew’s cake was overloaded with chocolate chips, giving it a melty gooey amazing texture - and the icing tasted suspiciously like the milk chocolate ice cream he and Neil had shared at the first movie night. He looked up, completely surprised and Neil was watching him. “How did you make this?” Andrew asked 

“I found that ice cream you like, and melted it...then added it to the icing recipe instead of the milk. It took a few tries, but it worked eventually.” 

“More than a few,” Kevin mumbled, and Neil laughed. 

“You like it?” Neil asked, watching him with an indecipherable look on his face. 

“Obviously,” Andrew said, shoveling a very large bite of chocolate goodness into his mouth before he said something incredibly stupid. 

***

Andrew startled awake when Neil crawled off the couch, bumping his foot. 

“Sorry,” Neil whispered, his sleepy smile just visible in the early morning light filtering through the windows. Neil touched Kevin’s shoulder briefly, then turned and leaned down next to Andrew. “I’m going to go for a run, and shower and change. I’ll pick you up in an hour and a half?” 

Andrew nodded, yawned, and closed his eyes, listening to Neil pad out of the room. He drifted a bit, but couldn’t fall fully asleep because now he was thinking about Neil being back in an hour and a half and a whole day just the two of them and, yeah. He was awake now. 

Andrew rolled up to sitting and found his glasses tucked under the edge of the couch, then shuffled into the kitchen. It was just past seven, but Nicky was already sitting at the kitchen table in his pajamas, sipping coffee and staring into space. “Morning,” he said, smiling at Andrew. 

Andrew grunted back, flopping his hand around in the cabinet until he landed on his favorite coffee mug - an oversized black one that slowly revealed the Milky Way when you added anything hot to it. He poured coffee, sleepily watching stars appear, and then added cream and sugar, stirring until the granules smoothed out. He shuffled to the table, sat next to Nicky, sipped his coffee and joined his cousin in staring into space for many minutes before Nicky set his mug down and turned to Andrew. “Plans for your first full day of being 17 cousin of mine?” 

Andrew threw a rogue napkin at him. “I’m taking Neil to Stone Mountain.” He took a sip of his coffee. 

Nicky blinked at him. Blinked again. Shook his head. “You mean all of you are going to Stone Mountain,” he said. 

“No, just me and Neil.” 

Nicky stared back at him, hesitated. Opened his mouth. Closed it, squared his shoulders, opened it again. “Andrew,” he said carefully, “You can’t just go on a day trip alone with Kevin’s husband.” 

Andrew stiffened, rolled through his brain for what he could say to that, and before he landed on something he looked up to see Kevin standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Jade at his side, her eyes wide. “Nicky,” Andrew murmured, inclining his head. 

Nicky turned and flushed when he saw them and everyone was frozen for a moment until Jade pushed at Kevin’s arm, led him to the table and sat him down. “Talk,” she said, her quiet voice authoritative. “You can tell me later if you want to,” and with that she left the kitchen. 

“Shit,” Nicky said. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want them to know.” 

“She probably knew something was up anyway,” Andrew said. “Jade pays attention, and she has adopted Kevin.” Kevin’s eyebrows shot up, but Andrew kept going. “She won’t say anything to the others.” 

Kevin shrugged. “We should tell them, we just have to figure out _how much_ to tell them.” 

“They can handle it,” Andrew said. 

“Handle what?” Nicky asked. He looked so confused, gaze darting back and forth between Kevin and Andrew. 

Andrew sighed, but Kevin answered first. “We need to have Neil here for this conversation, and I think we’d like to tell you all as much as we can, but not now okay?” 

Nicky stared at him, then turned back to Andrew, clearly torn. “I still don’t think you should be going to Stone Mountain with Neil,” Nicky said, his gaze worried. 

“It’s fine,” Kevin said, and now Kevin was looking at Andrew too, and he smiled. “More than fine.” 

“Oh my god,” Andrew groaned and he left them there without another word, grabbing a muffin on his way to take a shower.

Andrew didn’t know if Kevin and Nicky had talked more, but when he came back downstairs dressed and ready to go, Nicky handed him a cooler bag. “Thanksgiving sandwiches and stuff,” he said, with a smile. 

“Thanks,” Andrew said, and he meant it. 

Nicky hesitated. “I just worry about you, you know? It’s not that I don’t trust you. I want you to know that.” 

“I know that,” Andrew said. He did. 

“Okay,” Nicky smiled. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t, and Andrew was grateful when his phone pinged with a text from Neil that he was here. 

When Andrew went outside Neil was leaning against the Audi, smiling, and when Andrew reached him, Neil handed him a car key. It had a little orange bow on it. 

“What is this?” Andrew asked, staring at it in his palm. He knew what it was, a key to the Audi, but he didn’t know what it meant. 

“I just wanted you to have a key, so you can use the Audi whenever you want. So. Happy birthday, Andrew,” Neil shrugged. “I know it’s not a real present.” 

“You are ridiculous,” Andrew said, wrapping his fingers tightly around the key. “I’m driving.” 

“Of course,” Neil agreed, grinning at him. 

In the car Andrew let out a little breath, forced his heart to calm. This was the first time he was alone with Neil since he’d found out that he and Kevin weren’t actually a _he and Kevin._ At least not in the way Andrew had thought. It was overwhelming. It might mean nothing. It might mean everything. Neil had just given him a fucking key to his car. 

“Give me your phone,” Andrew said before he started the car. Neil raised an eyebrow but handed his phone over and Andrew tapped at it, rolled his eyes and downloaded Spotify. He quickly made Neil a profile, searched for the playlist he had made, and pulled it up. Andrew finally started the car, connected the phone to bluetooth, and handed it back to Neil. Billie Eilish’s _My Future_ spilled out of the fancy speakers and Neil’s eyes widened. 

“I made you a playlist,” Andrew said, watching him. 

“It is all Billie Eilish?” Neil asked. 

“No junkie, the idea is you find some other music you like too. So just let me know what you like.” Neil nodded, staring at Andrew in some kind of way, and Andrew tore his gaze away and backed the car out of the driveway. 

It was two hours to Stone Mountain, and Andrew had added enough music for the whole drive. Neil kicked back next to him, humming along to Billie’s songs when they came on, smiling at the Bowie Andrew had added last night after Labyrinth, bopping his head to Harry Styles. When New Order came on Neil started bouncing lightly in his seat and he shot a grin at Andrew. “Oh I _like_ this,” he breathed. Andrew hummed his agreement. 

They were a half hour away when _Pale Blue Eyes_ came on. Neil went still, head tilted, looking out his window. “Who’s this?” he asked. 

“The Velvet Underground,” Andrew said. 

“Did you make this playlist about me?” Neil asked.

“I made it for you,” Andrew said, neatly sidestepping the question. 

Neil was quiet, and _Ocean Eyes_ came on next, Billie’s sultry voice soothing and pining all at once. “There’s a lot of songs about blue eyes on here,” Neil said, his voice amused. 

Andrew didn’t say anything. He felt Neil’s eyes on him, and then Neil tapped at the back of his hand where it rested on the gearshift. “Can I hold your hand?” he asked. 

Andrew’s breath stopped and then restarted. Billie crooned _burning cities, and napalm skies._ “Like you hold Kevin’s hand?” Andrew asked, and he winced at his own question but he didn’t take it back, because he needed to know. Neil didn’t answer right away, and Andrew looked at him for as long as he could before looking back at the road. 

“Not like Kevin,” Neil said finally, and he wrapped a finger around Andrew’s thumb, pulled at him questioningly, and Andrew let him, and Neil tangled their fingers together, their palms pressing warm and close. There was more New Order, more Bowie, Neil’s thumb tracing small slow circles on Andrew’s hand, and they didn’t say anything else until they arrived. 

It was cold, but it was a clear day, the sky was a brilliant sun-washed blue, not a cloud in sight. It had been over a year since Andrew had been to Stone Mountain, but when he’d first come to South Carolina Nicky would bundle him and Aaron into the car once or twice a month, drive out here with a picnic. Nicky would play stupid music and do all the talking, and Andrew could be as silent as he needed, staring out the window for the ride, climbing the mountain, sitting on the rock face, trying not to think about how high up they were and getting used to the idea of his new family - getting used to the idea of being safe.

Neil let go of his hand when they exited the highway so Andrew could shift gears, and they parked in the main lot, Andrew shouldering the picnic bag. It was a steep trail, but they were athletes, and they reached the top in less than an hour, the bald face of the small mountain opening up in front of them, a flat wide expanse breaking from the trees before dropping off and presenting a view of the rolling hills of the valley. 

“Wow,” Neil said, as they came to a stop. 

“Yeah,” Andrew agreed, and before he could think about it he captured Neil’s hand again, braided their fingers together, pulled him along to his favorite spot just under the tree line and tugged Neil down to sit. They leaned into each other side by side and ate the sandwiches Nicky sent, which were good - there was turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce on thick brown bread. Andrew had eaten this sandwich for lunch on the day after his birthday every year since Aaron and Nicky had found him. 

When they were finished Andrew shoved everything back into the bag, and his knuckles brushed up against something metal. “Asshole,” he huffed fondly, pulling out the small metal flask with an A engraved on it that Aaron must have tucked in there when Andrew was waiting for Neil to pick him up. 

“What?” Neil said, leaning in tighter to Andrew’s side. 

“Cold?” Andrew asked. 

“A little,” Neil agreed. 

“This will help,” Andrew said, twisting off the top and taking a sip. It was bourbon. He winced and handed it to Neil. Neil raised an eyebrow but took it, and tilted his head back to take his own sip. His throat flashed above the collar of his hoodie for a moment, and he didn’t wince. “Hard core,” Andrew deadpanned, and Neil grinned, handing back the flask. 

“Aaron and I traded flasks two years ago for our birthday, and Mads pilfered a bottle of bourbon from his cousin. I think this is from that same damn bottle.” Andrew took another sip, struggled not to wince and handed it to Neil again. “It is our tradition, the day after. A little bourbon, you know. The badasses we are.” 

“You rebels,” Neil said, taking another sip and capping the flask. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take you away from him today.” 

Andrew shook his head. “There is no sorry. I asked you to come. And,” Andrew hesitated. “Aaron thought we should talk.” 

Neil nodded slowly, turning his gaze away, looking out over the rock face, the hills, the blown out blue sky. “Kevin thinks so too. I don’t think they are wrong,” Neil said. He stopped. Andrew waited. “But you should know that I will never not be married to Kevin,” Neil said softly. “At least not while Ichirou is alive.”

“Okay,” Andrew said. 

“Is it though? Okay with you? It’s not really fair is it,” Neil said, and he had turned back to Andrew, and his face was close, because they were still pressed together, the length of their arms, Neil’s pinky resting on top of Andrew’s, their knees touching. 

Andrew looked away this time. Considered his answer, how to make it clear. Finally he waved his free hand at them, at their knees, their arms. “I don’t do this, casual touching, or even not so casual touching. With Sam some, yes, but it is careful,” Andrew said. 

“You’ve had boyfriends though?” Neil asked. 

“I have kissed exactly two boys. Mads one time in middle school - that was a bad idea,” Andrew huffed a little laugh. “And Roland.” 

“Roland,” Neil repeated. 

Andrew shrugged. “He graduated last year. Went to college in New York.” 

“Oh,” Neil said. 

“It’s not a thing,” Andrew said. 

“Mmm,” Neil hummed. “I don’t know why I thought you had more experience than I have in this.” 

“I don’t,” Andrew blew out a breath. Fuck it. “I don’t trust people enough to have more experience.” 

Neil’s eyes were a reflection of the sky as he stared back at him. “You trust me,” Neil said. It wasn’t a question. Andrew didn’t answer it. He didn’t have to. Neil bit his bottom lip. Andrew groaned and rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” Neil said sheepishly. “It’s a habit.” 

“I am aware,” Andrew said drily. 

Neil curled more fingers around Andrew’s, looked down at their hands. “I have kissed two people too,” he said. 

“Kevin,” Andrew guessed. 

“Yes, and Jean.” Neil ran a fingertip along Andrew’s pointer finger. “I didn’t think...I am not sure. I just didn’t think that sort of thing was for me.” 

“And now?” Andrew asked quietly. 

“I don’t know,” Neil said honestly, his eyes clear, his gaze back on Andrew. “Do you want to kiss me?” he asked. 

Andrew’s lungs squeezed. “Yes,” Andrew said. In this very moment there was nothing in the world he wanted more. But. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked Neil. 

Neil didn’t answer, but he didn’t look away, and he pulled Andrew’s hand from the ground, tucked it against his own cheek, leaned into it, closed his eyes, sighed. 

“Neil?” Andrew prompted. 

“I don’t know, but I think…” Neil trailed off, his eyes still closed. 

Andrew slid his hand into Neil’s hair, and it was soft, and Neil opened his eyes. That sure was some kind of blue. “Let me know when it is a yes, not a maybe,” Andrew said, because there was nothing else he could say. 

“Okay,” Neil said, and he nodded against Andrew’s hand. 

They drove home, holding hands as they sped down the highway, and Andrew’s brain was soft white noise - he couldn’t land on any one thing, his whole attention on the warmth of Neil’s hand in his, the possibility that had been launched into the air between them with that conversation.

Andrew played his favorite Bowie album for Neil, and then Lana Del Ray, and Mallrat, and Neil smiled softly to himself, curled up and contemplative in the passenger seat. 

It was twilight when Andrew pulled into Neil’s driveway. Kevin’s jeep was missing, so Andrew imagined he was still out with Jade. He cut the engine, the music still playing; Neil had switched it to Billie again when the Mallrat album finished. Andrew looked down at their hands, nail polish on rough fingertips - matching color, matching exy callouses. 

Neil unbuckled his seatbelt, turned towards Andrew. “It’s a yes,” he murmured, and Andrew looked up, those blue eyes dark in the low light. Neil’s gaze dipped to Andrew’s lips. “Can I kiss you? It’s a yes for me.” 

“Yes,” Andrew whispered, and he unbuckled his own seatbelt, twisted in his seat, stopped, took a breath, licked his bottom lip, took another small breath, and then he kissed Neil. 

Neil’s hand tightened in his as their lips brushed together. Andrew pushed against the console for leverage, which gave him too much leverage, and they clashed teeth, bumped noses. Andrew groaned. Neil laughed softly, and Andrew adjusted his angle, anchoring a hand behind Neil’s neck, got it right this time, and _yeah_ , this was Neil and Andrew was kissing him. His heart was buzzing in his ears as Neil kissed him back, tentatively at first, and then fiercely, and when Andrew licked at Neil’s lips he opened his mouth for him and _fuck._

Andrew pulled back to catch his breath, but Neil followed him, and Andrew let him. Neil’s hand was on Andrew’s shoulder, his chest, and he was trying to climb over the console into Andrew’s lap, and there wasn’t enough room and the kiss was turning desperate. Andrew couldn’t think, and he didn’t want to do what he was about to do, he really, _really_ didn’t. But. He put his hand on Neil’s chest, pushed gently, and Neil immediately went, his breathing ragged, his eyes on Andrew’s. 

“Did I do that wrong?” Neil asked. 

“Fuck, Neil. No. Just. Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. “Same.” 

Andrew laughed, and it was ragged. He tugged at Neil’s hoodie and Neil collapsed against him, tucking his face into Andrew’s neck, and it had to be uncomfortable draped across the console and the hand brake and the gearshift, but Neil didn’t seem to care. 

Neil sat back eventually and pulled on Andrew’s hoodie strings, put fingertips on Andrew’s cheek, his neck. “Can we do that again?” 

“Yes, you menace,” Andrew murmured against Neil’s lips. They kissed again, softer, quieter, hands roaming carefully until headlights pulled in next to them, and Andrew let Neil go reluctantly to see Kevin parked next to them, resolutely _not_ looking at the Audi. 

Neil laughed, kissed the side of Andrew’s mouth and crawled out of the car. “See you at school?” he said. 

Andrew nodded, finding his voice. “Goodnight Neil.” 

Andrew drove the few blocks home, crawled into his bed, and tried to convince himself that the whole damn day hadn’t been a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, Andrew has eclectic music tastes and unabashedly enjoys both Harry Styles and 80's brit rock, and i will die by that blade.


	7. Chapter 7

Neil woke up groggy on the couch to sunlight filtering through the curtains and Netflix asking him if he was still watching Gilmore Girls. Neil’s first thought was that this was the last season and he’d have to find something else to fall asleep to. Andrew had mentioned Gossip Girl. Oh. Neil’s second thought was Andrew. Kissing Andrew. That had been a whole thing. Neil heard the toilet flush, the bathroom door open. Kevin. Neil’s third thought was that it was Monday.

It was Monday. 

Kevin hadn’t said a word about Andrew when Neil followed him into the house last night. They’d eaten dinner; they’d watched Bake Off. Neil had curled around Kevin in bed, and as soon as he’d closed his eyes the pleasant distraction of the day had faded, the feel of Andrew’s lips on his had disappeared, and he was wide awake and worried. Worried that Wymack wouldn’t be able to convince Palmetto State’s board to make exceptions for him and Andrew, worried that he wouldn’t be able to convince Ichirou, worried that even if all of it came together, it would take too long and force him to break his promise to Jean. 

Two weeks. 

He had promised. 

It had only been five days. 

It felt like five weeks. 

It was going to be okay. 

He had run through his own mantras in his head as Kevin’s breathing finally evened out in sleep, as Neil tucked his face into the back of Kevin’s neck, squeezing his eyes tight, trying to force himself into sleep. It hadn’t worked - his brain going miles a minute as he considered and discarded and planned for how he was going to propose his plan to Ichirou. 

That was the next step. 

That was the last piece. 

They were so close. 

It was going to be okay. 

Eventually Neil had given up on sleep, crawled out of the bed and curled up on the couch, queued up Rory and Lorelie and Luke, and zoned out wondering what it would be like living in Stars Hollow where the biggest drama in your life was having to eat dinner once a week with rich grandparents who weren’t mobsters. 

Neil glanced at the clock. It was 7am, and there was no way Wymack had gotten back to them this early in the day. He checked his phone anyway - looking for a voicemail, an email, a text. Nothing. He hadn’t really been expecting anything yet, but he still felt a small pang of disappointment. 

Kevin appeared in the living room. “Did you get any sleep?” he asked.

“A little,” Neil said. It wasn’t a lie. He’d gotten a little. The clock had said four thirty am the last time he remembered looking. So that was at least two hours. 

Neil dragged himself into the bathroom to pee and splash water on his face. He looked in the mirror, and his tired face looked back. 

It was Monday. 

It had only been five days. 

It was going to be okay. 

He thumbed at his bottom lip, thought about Andrew and his playlist and his hands, and went to the kitchen. Kevin handed him a cup of coffee, nodded at the kitchen table, and Neil slid into his chair as Kevin brought him instant oatmeal with bananas and cinnamon. Neil wasn’t hungry but he ate it, drank his coffee. Kevin sat across from him. 

“Do you think he’ll call today?” Kevin said. 

Neil knew he meant Wymack. It wasn’t really a question, it was just talking, but he answered anyway. “I think so,” he lied. “If he doesn’t I’ll call him.” Kevin nodded, looking into his coffee. “It’s going to be okay Kev,” Neil said. “It’s only been five days.” He believed it more when he was saying it to Kevin. Kevin nodded again. 

They both startled when Neil’s phone buzzed on the table, and Neil lunged for it. It wasn’t Wymack, but it _was_ Andrew, and Neil smiled a little looking down at the text. 

_pick you and your husband up in half an hour for school?_

“Neil?” Kevin said.

“Oh,” Neil said, looking up. “It’s Andrew. He’s offering to pick us up for school in thirty minutes.”

“Ah,” Kevin said, and a _look_ crept onto his face that he failed to cover by taking a sip of his coffee. 

“What?”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “You know I saw you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Neil said. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kevin asked.

“Do _you_ want to talk about it?” Neil countered.

“No,” Kevin said. “But maybe we should. A little.”

Neil stared at him. “This was your idea Kevin,” he said. Kevin didn’t say anything. Neil suddenly felt frustrated. He was so fucking tired. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He took a deep breath, held it in, blew it out slowly. “Okay, fine. What?” he asked, and it managed to come out calmer than he felt. 

“You kissed him,” Kevin said. 

“Yes,” Neil agreed. 

“Did you like it?”

 _Oh._ Fuck. “Kevin-” Neil started, but Kevin held his hand up to stop him. 

“No, Neil, it’s okay. I just. I want to know.”

Neil sighed. Wondered if he could just skip school today. “Yes. I liked it,” he said. 

Kevin nodded. He smiled - a small smile - but it was a smile. “Good,” he said. 

“You wanted this Kevin,” Neil reminded him. 

“I want you to be happy Neil. If Andrew makes you happy, then I want this, yes.”

“But?” Neil asked, because he _knew_ Kevin and there was something else. 

“There is no _but_ , not really. It just - hit me harder than I had thought it would, when I saw you. When I saw you actually kissing him. Kissing him like you wanted to be kissing him.” Kevin was staring into his coffee now. 

Neil gazed at Kevin, his dark hair flopped over his forehead, his frame long and lanky but strong. Kevin’s face was calm in the storm, his arms home; he was Neil’s family, as was Jean. They were the only family that had ever mattered, that had ever been real. Kevin and Jean were Neil’s to protect and he knew what they wanted - _had_ wanted - with him. The option had been there, on the table, laid bare. 

Neil had tried, for them. 

He had wanted it to be, for them. 

It was never going to be, for him. Not like that. 

“Kevin-” Neil said, but Kevin looked up, held up a hand again. 

“No,” Kevin said. “The thing is, I get it. I thought for a long time you just didn’t swing at all, and when this happened - when we got married - I hoped I could be what you would want from a husband. That nothing would change - you would have me and Jean, and we wouldn’t have to kiss you to be your partners, but we would still be your partners - you would still get something good out of this.”

Neil stared at him, started to speak, but Kevin stopped him again. “Just let me, okay?” he said. Neil nodded. 

“Then there was Andrew, and you were - _are_ \- different around him. Like I said, you lean on him like you don’t lean on us. Like you can’t lean on us. And I get it now. We’ve leaned on you so heavily, we’ve let you take care of us, there’s just… I just…” Kevin waved his hand in the air, and Neil waited. Kevin sighed, and it was bone weary. “God, I’m an asshole aren’t I? I think I must be incredibly selfish,” he said, closing his eyes and rubbing both hands hard on his face.

“Kevin, fucking stop,” Neil said. He moved to the next chair, scooted in close, and pulled Kevin’s hands from his face, tucked them into his own hands and squeezed. “Look at me. First of all, you are not an asshole. Mostly.” Kevin smiled weakly, and Neil pulled him forward until their foreheads were touching. “Second of all, nothing is changing. Not between me and you. I cannot picture a life without you and Jean in it. It’s not selfish if I want it too. We have a plan, it’s a good plan, and nothing has changed.”

“One thing has changed,” Kevin said softly.

“Andrew,” Neil said. 

“Andrew,” Kevin agreed.

“Yeah,” Neil said. “I don’t know why, but yeah. Maybe what you said is true. Does it matter the why?”

“It doesn’t matter if you are happy.”

“Hmmm, happy,” Neil mused, thinking about Andrew. “Maybe you are kind of an asshole. The Andrew thing is pretty much all your fault.”

Kevin pulled back to look at him, and then relaxed when he saw Neil’s grin. “The Andrew thing,” he huffed. “I didn’t know I was going to react that way. I still would have pushed you towards him, even if I had known.”

“Which is exactly the opposite of selfish.”

Kevin’s eyes widened at that. “I _am_ happy for you,” Kevin insisted quietly. 

“I know Kev. You can be happy for me and also be a little sad. It’s okay,” Neil said, and he meant it. 

Neil’s phone buzzed again, and he grabbed it. 

_yes?_

Oh, he had forgotten to respond to Andrew. He typed a quick reply. 

**yes. ready in fifteen.**

Neil set the phone aside to put their dishes in the sink - they could deal with them after school - and pulled Kevin to his feet and into his arms for a hug. “Let’s go to school. Play at being normal for a while.”

Kevin snorted into Neil’s hair. “Normal.”

“Yeah, normal. Now come on husband, we have fifteen minutes until my boyfriend will be here to pick us up.”

Kevin pulled back with a raised eyebrow, and blinked. “Boyfriend?” 

“Boyfriend,” Neil nodded. “Isn’t that what you call it? That’s what Rory calls the boys she kisses.”

“Did you talk about that with Andrew?”

“Not in so many words,” Neil shrugged.

“Maybe you should,” Kevin suggested.

“You have a lot of opinions on what I should talk about with Andrew,” Neil said. 

“Yeah,” Kevin said with a smirk. “And look how well that turned out last time. You got kisses.”

“Oh god. I am not talking to you anymore,” Neil huffed, shoving him towards the bedroom to get dressed. 

They were outside and waiting when Andrew pulled up fifteen minutes later with Aaron in the Audi, and Kevin and Neil crawled into the back seat. Neil sat behind Andrew, who looked gorgeous and soft in a black sweater with a yellow bee on the front and aviator sunglasses, his hair damp and messy from the shower. Billie Eilish was crooning out of the speakers, and Neil’s stomach did a little swoop when Andrew caught his gaze in the rearview mirror. 

He leaned forward, Andrew watching him in the mirror until Neil’s mouth was right next to Andrew’s left ear, farthest away from Kevin and Aaron, and he whispered, “You’re my boyfriend now, right? Kevin said I should clarify.” 

Andrew shivered, turned towards Neil, and the movement pushed Andrew’s jaw into Neil’s lips but Neil didn’t move. “Good morning Neil. And, yes. Obviously.” 

Neil grinned against Andrew’s cheek and whispered, “Good.” He sat back in his seat, and saw Kevin staring at him, and Aaron staring at Andrew. “What?”

“You know we heard you right?” Aaron said, and he was fighting a grin. 

“Oh my god,” Andrew said, and he cranked up Billie’s _you should see me in a crown_ until it was too loud for anyone to say anything, and pulled out of the driveway. 

First period lasted forever. Neil couldn’t focus on anything his lit teacher was saying, and he slid his phone out under his desk every minute to check for word from Wymack. He was tired but wired, his knee bouncing up and down under the desk, and he kinda went into a daze as his teacher droned on about Huck Finn - which Neil had actually read but he couldn’t currently remember anything about. Maybe the dark circles under his eyes were foreboding because he managed to make it through the fifty minutes without being called on. 

Second period was advanced Arabic which, usually, was Neil’s favorite class. He liked languages. It was like math with letters; add a dash of creativity and nuance, and boom, you are speaking another language. Today though he couldn’t seem to remember to read right to left, the lines running together in one long unintelligible script. Mr. Mian was used to calling on Neil when no one else would answer, because Neil usually had an answer, but today he stared stupidly at his teacher when he called his name the first time, and the second time Neil gave the wrong answer entirely, causing Mr. Mian to frown at him slightly before moving on, and he didn’t call on him again. 

Third period was study hall, which was problematic because there was nothing to distract him; the _wired_ had worked its way out of his knees in his first two classes. He briefly considered pulling out his airpods, flipping to the playlist Andrew had made him - but his hair wasn’t long enough to hide his ears, and the only result would be getting his phone taken away and no way to receive Wymack’s call. Instead he drew circles and squares on the pages in his notebook, spirals and boxes, building and growing until the page was covered in blue ink. He flipped the page, wrote _Andrew_ and drew a box around it. Drew a fox paw. It looked terrible. He drew a few more. Traced the letters of Andrew’s name over again. The bell rang, finally. 

Fourth period was pre-calc, and at least Aaron would be there, sitting beside him at their shared double desk, but as Neil settled into his seat he looked up to see Aaron’s red button down walking into the room, it wasn’t Aaron wearing it. Andrew slid into the seat next to him, his face impassive, his normally unruly waves slicked back, combed and tamed in an exact copy of how Aaron wore his hair. 

Neil stared at him. “Red,” he mumbled. 

“Well spotted,” Andrew said, an amused eyebrow creeping up. 

“Never seen you in anything so bright,” Neil said. 

Andrew’s face did something subtle and complicated. “You know it is me,” he said. 

“Obviously,” Neil said, confused.

“Obviously,” Andrew said, and he was looking at Neil’s mouth. “Stealing my lines again, Neil?”

Neil liked the way Andrew said his name, solid and warm and reminiscent of kisses. Even if Neil couldn’t focus on class, he _could_ focus on Andrew; a steady anchor next to him, his hand resting on the edge on Neil’s chair under the table where no one could see but where Neil could feel the grounding touch of Andrew’s pinky resting against his thigh. 

They couldn’t really talk in this class - math was math, no excuses for consulting his neighbor on equations he should already have memorized - but after a few moments Andrew slid Neil’s notebook out from under his fingers, flipped through some pages, and stopped when he landed on the page with his own name traced over and surrounded by fox paws. Neil thought idly that he was supposed to be embarrassed - that Rory Gilmore would have been embarrassed - but instead he just watched with rapt attention as Andrew’s fingertip traced a paw, and then another, and then another, and then stilled as he reached the _Andrew._ Neil was close enough to hear Andrew’s breath catch, and then he picked up his own pen, carefully wrote _menace_ in black ink, using the “e” in _Andrew_ like Neil’s notebook was a scrabble board. Neil considered it for a minute, then wrote _monsters,_ using the “m” in _menace._ Andrew stared at it, and then slowly and deliberately used the “e” to write _boyfriend,_ hesitated only a moment, and then wrote _Neil_ off of the “n” and drew a little knife next to it. Neil smiled, and dropped his hand under the table to tangle fingers with Andrew.

It wasn’t until class was over, and Andrew was towing Neil down the hallway by his belt loop, that Neil realized he hadn’t even questioned Andrew’s presence in his pre-calc class. Hadn’t even thought to ask why Andrew had switched shirts with Aaron, slicked back his hair, and slid confidently into the room like he belonged there. 

Neil had just accepted that he was there. Leaned on him. Took comfort from him. 

Unquestioning. 

Naturally. 

Fucking Kevin. 

Neil’s step faltered, and Andrew stopped, turning to look at him. Neil didn’t know how to say that Kevin was right, that _this_ was a thing and it was _big_ and that Neil had fallen so far into Andrew without even knowing it. He couldn’t form words around the feelings, so instead he just shrugged lightly and said, “I’m just so tired,” because he was that too. 

Andrew searched his face, and then dropped his belt loop to take his hand instead. Without a word Andrew turned, leading them in the opposite direction from their usual lunch spot, away from their Monsters and towards the gym.

The exy court was locked, but Neil had keys, and he dug them out of his backpack to open the court doors after Andrew had come to a stop in front of them and thrown a look at Neil and then the door and then back again with a raised eyebrow.

It was silent except for the sound of their footsteps echoing against the plexiglass as Neil followed Andrew across the springy court floor. The lights were off, but high windows let in the early afternoon light. Andrew had run quick fingers through his hair, freeing it into standard issue wildness, and as he walked through the court the sunbeams turned his hair to gold. 

Neil thought _pretty_ and then he thought _oh._

Maybe his brain was short circuiting from lack of sleep, from too much stress, from too much everything, but as they reached the goal and Andrew slid his backpack to the floor and turned to him, Neil said, “Pretty.” Andrew didn’t respond, just reached out, grabbed the strap of Neil’s bag and started to pull it from his shoulder, and Neil let him. “The first time you painted my nails. I looked up at you and thought you were pretty,” Neil said. 

“Did you,” Andrew said, his gaze steady on Neil but his ears turned pink and Neil grinned. 

“Just now too, walking in the sunlight. Pretty.” Neil nodded in punctuation and Andrew rolled his eyes, tugging Neil down to sit. 

Andrew pulled his own lunch out and pushed Neil’s bag towards him. Neil did the same, and they ate their sandwiches in silence, and when they were finished Andrew leaned back against the wall of the goal and tugged at his sleeve, arranging Neil until he was pressed against Andrew back to front. Andrew wrapped his arms around Neil’s waist and pulled him in, and Neil sighed and let go, closing his eyes, letting himself drape back against Andrew’s steady warmth, the rise and fall of his chest. 

Andrew reached up and brushed his knuckles against Neil’s jaw. “You too,” he said quietly. 

“What?” Neil said, his brain fuzzy, his eyes heavy. 

“Pretty,” Andrew said. 

Neil smiled. “When?” 

“First time I saw you, menace,” Andrew huffed. “Now be quiet, see if you can sleep.” 

Neil hummed, and impossibly, felt himself start to drift off - no Billie, no Rory - just quiet and Andrew and...Neil’s eyelids flew open as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pushed up, fumbling to pull it out, and then stared at the text on the screen. 

“Neil?” 

“It’s Wymack. Just a text - says to check my email.” 

“So check your email.” 

Neil made a frustrated sound. “I never set it up. On this phone, I never set it up.” 

“Okay,” Andrew said, and his voice was calm as he held his hand out to Neil curling his fingertips a little. Neil gave him the phone, held his breath while Andrew tapped at it quickly, gave him his school email and password when he asked. It was only a minute and then Andrew handed it back, emails already loading on the screen and then _there,_ Neil let his breath out all at once when he saw Wymack’s email, the single word _Contracts_ in the subject line. He clicked on it. Four documents attached, one line of text: _welcome to the Foxes kids._

Neil was staring at that line - _welcome to the Foxes kids_ \- when Kevin called. 

“Did you see it? Where are you?” 

“Yes, just now. I’m on the court with Andrew.” 

“Okay. Wait, were you practicing without me?” 

Neil sighed. “No, of course not.” 

“Okay, yeah, sorry, just - what do we do now?” 

“Go to class, I’ll see you at practice, we’ll talk after.” 

“Okay.” 

“This is good Kevin. Really good.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

Neil hung up. He’d twisted around and was knee to knee with Andrew now, and Andrew was watching him. “Congratulations Fox,” he said, face impassive. 

“Back at you Fox,” Neil said, but he felt numb. “I feel like I should feel something more about this but I just feel like I’m going to throw up.” 

“Literally or figuratively? I need to know if I should move,” Andrew said drily, and it made Neil grin. 

“I’m not going to throw up on you,” he said. 

“Wonderful,” Andrew said. “So, what is the next step?” 

“Ichirou,” Neil said, and he frowned a little. “I need…actually,” he looked down at the email on his phone again. Thought about his reaction to the email from Wymack, the one line, the attached contracts. Neil pulled it open again, and checked - each contract was labelled with their names, and there: neatly listed at the bottom of the email was Kevin Day, Nathaniel Wesninski, Andrew Minyard, and Jean Moreau. Fuck it. “I have an idea.” Neil forwarded the email to his private email account, and then looked up at Andrew. “How much time do we have until next period?” 

“Ten minutes.” 

“Computer lab, come with me?” Andrew stood up without question and followed Neil to the abandoned computer lab - most of the kids toted their own laptops and tablets to school, so they had the place to themselves. Neil quickly logged into the Hatford’s VPN and pulled up his private email. He downloaded and attached the contracts to a new message, typed in Ichirou’s email address, and then hesitated only a moment before simply typing _I want to talk_ in the subject line. He stared at it, finger hovering over the send button. “I shouldn’t attach yours,” Neil said, not looking at Andrew. 

“Will it help? With Jean?” 

“Yes, but it also puts you on the Moriyamas’ radar. That’s not what I wanted.” 

“Neil, look at me,” Andrew said. Neil did. His face was so close and Neil just wanted to lean into him. 

Andrew slid his hand over Neil’s on the mouse. “We are going to play together at Palmetto. We are going to tear up the court with Kevin and Jean. The Moriyamas are going to be watching you, which means they are going to see me, because I am going to be right by your side. What is the difference if they start watching me a little earlier?” Neil shook his head slowly at Andrew, but he didn’t resist as Andrew slid his hand forward, pressed on Neil’s finger on the mouse, and sent the email. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” Neil agreed, blowing out a breath. 

They went to class, Andrew’s hand in his, Neil oblivious to the stares and the handful of catcalls. Andrew was making an announcement by leading Neil through the halls like this, as any new relationship was fodder for locker gossip - particularly when said relationship involved the slightly scarier Minyard twin and the infamous Nathaniel Wesninski. 

Neil was too tired to care, his mind focused on the email he’d just sent, focused on the thousand ways this could go wrong, focused on the one last squirrely piece of his plan that relied more than he’d like on the whims of Ichirou Moriyama. 

The whims of a man whose last head on collision with Neil had ended in a marriage. 

Neil knew what he was asking for, knew that it was big, but he had every reason to believe he might get it. Ichirou was smarter than Kengo, less cruel than Tetsuji. He would look at the situation and make the best business decision for the Moriyama empire. What Neil didn’t know was how Ichirou would twist it, put his own brand of humor on it, make Neil suffer for daring to ask the question in the first place. 

Although, he wasn’t really suffering now, was he? He and Kevin had already managed to build a life here, had started to build their future - a future for their family, for Neil and Kevin and Jean. 

Andrew, and the Monsters too, were becoming his family. Andrew’s warm hand in his own, Kevin’s arms wrapped around him in a hug. If he didn’t fuck this up Jean’s wicked gaze and sarcastic laugh would be back in his life too. Monsters, all, but the good kind. Family.

“Neil?” Andrew said, snapping him out of his daze. They were stopped and Andrew was frowning at him. “This is your class, right?”

Neil looked up at the door, and fuck. “Yes, this is it, yeah.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine,” Neil said, straightening, tugging the corner of his mouth into a grin for Andrew. 

“You are convincing no one,” Andrew said. 

“Yeah,” Neil said. “I’m just-”

“Tired,” Andrew finished for him. “I know.” He brushed his thumb over Neil’s knuckles and let him go. “See you at practice, menace.”

Sixth period was history and Neil’s least favorite class - particularly since half the time Mr. Anderson put on dry documentaries and dozed at his desk, and today was no exception. Neil doodled his way through some PBS special on Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, adding more fox paws to his notebook, writing menace over and over again. He liked when Andrew called him a menace. A monster menace. A menace monster? He tried his hand at drawing fox ears over Andrew’s name, but they didn’t really work out, just drooped kinda floppy and sad.

Seventh period was physics, and Neil had never been more grateful for his lab partner Margot. Usually her interest and questions and habit of leaning too far into his space was too much, but today Neil just nodded along, let her chatter away, let her do all the work on their experiment. He wasn’t clueless, even if Jean and Kevin liked to tease that he was. Just because he usually wasn’t interested (okay, fine, never had been interested before Andrew) didn’t mean he didn’t know when others were. Neil knew Margot had been flirting with him since his first day at Columbia, and he only felt the smallest twinge for taking advantage of her now. He was too tired for guilt. He’d been too tired for guilt for a very long time. Margot batted her eyelashes. Neil smiled. The bell rang. 

Practice should have been exhausting with the state Neil was in, but instead it was invigorating and the Monsters lightened his heart. Kevin scooped him into a hug so thorough that it lifted Neil off his feet. Neil tucked his face into Kevin’s shoulder and hugged him fiercely back. Jade had a new bracelet for him in orange and black and white - she’d made one for Kevin and Andrew too. Foxes. Neil added it to the collection on his wrist. Coach Hernandez made a little speech congratulating them on their contracts, even if he looked a bit bewildered by the whole thing. The rest of their teammates eyed them curiously at the announcement, but Aaron patted Neil on the back and Sam threw an arm over Andrew’s shoulder and Mads whooped out loud and Jade smiled. 

It felt good to put gear on and practice; the drills were easy and mindless, and their scrimmage was fun. After, the team filed off leaving Neil with Kevin and Andrew as usual, but this time Aaron stuck around too, and when the court had cleared Andrew suggested they skip extra practice today. Kevin looked like he was about to protest, but Andrew shoved him from one side, and Aaron from the other, which meant he didn’t actually get shoved at all but was instead bookmarked by two stern Twinyards, and Neil laughed. 

“Probably not the worst idea, at least for today Kev,” Neil said. 

Kevin stared at him for a moment before finally shrugging. “Fine, but we can’t slack off just because we have contracts now.” 

“Pretty sure that’s not what’s happening here,” Aaron said with a snort. “Neil looks like he’s about to keel over.” 

“I’m fine,” Neil protested. Andrew and Aaron rolled their eyes in unison, and Neil laughed again. “I’m tired, but I’m fine,” he said. 

“Okay great, so pizza and movies for the rest of the day then?” Aaron suggested. 

“Yes and ice cream,” Andrew agreed. He headed for the locker room without another word and the three of them followed. Andrew and Aaron went in first, but Kevin held Neil back. 

“Did you call him already?” 

“Ichirou? No, actually, I just emailed him the contracts with very little information. I think it will intrigue him enough to call me first.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” 

“Then we’ll call him. If that doesn’t work we’ll get Stuart involved.”

Kevin frowned. ”You don’t want him involved.” 

“I don’t. But I told you. I have backup plans. It’s going to be fine.” 

Kevin reached up with both hands and swiped his thumbs carefully under Neil’s eyes. “Is it? You look like hell.” 

“Not sleeping. Nothing new.” Neil shrugged. 

Kevin nodded, but didn’t say anything to that. 

They showered, and the four of them piled into the Audi and headed for home. Andrew passed his own house, pulling instead into Neil and Kevin’s driveway. Andrew and Aaron followed them into the house and Neil realized it was the first time they’d come over - they usually defaulted to the twin’s house, with its welcoming kitchen and perfect set up for the Monster’s Saturday night sleepovers. 

Neil gave them a tour while Kevin ordered pizza. It wasn’t fancy, but as he showed off their kitchen, the two guest bedrooms, their cosy living room and spacious back porch, Neil realized he really loved this little house. His home. Neil showed them their bedroom last, and when Andrew stopped to stare at the oversized bed, Aaron announced that he was going to go make sure Kevin ordered an appropriate amount of pepperoni, leaving Neil and Andrew alone. 

“You and Kevin share a room,” Andrew said, still looking at the bed and not at Neil. 

Neil frowned. “Yeah?”

Andrew hummed, finally turning to Neil, searching his face, but he must have been satisfied with whatever he saw because he backed Neil into the wall, slid his hands along his hips carefully, and kissed him. Neil kissed him back and it wasn’t soft, but he didn’t need soft. He needed to be bolstered, to feel alive, to feel _awake;_ he needed Andrew’s hands on his sides, curved around his back. Neil groaned, his eyes widening at the sound he made, and Andrew leaned back to gaze at him for a moment before leaning in to kiss him again, briefly, gently this time. He slid his hand up to grip Neil’s chin, fingers sprawled under his jaw. “You need to get your own room,” he said. 

Neil huffed a laugh. “Yeah, particularly when Jean gets here.” But then Neil thought _if he gets here,_ and he shivered, his grin fading.

Andrew brushed his thumb along Neil’s cheek. “Whatever you just thought, stop it.”

“That easy is it?” Neil asked. 

“Yes,” Andrew said, and he kissed him again to prove it. Neil melted into the distraction of Andrew’s insistent lips and the warmth building under his skin. 

Sooner than Neil might have wished Andrew pulled back, kissed the corner of his mouth one more time, and then herded him back to the living room with a smirk. Andrew sat and tugged Neil down onto the couch with him - which sent him off balance, resulting in Neil plastered to Andrew’s side. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“Hush,” Andrew said, fishing Neil’s hand out from where it was smushed between them and pulling it into his own. 

Neil sighed and snuggled into him. “I like this too,” Neil said. 

“What else do you like?” Andrew hummed next to him.

“Kissing you,” Neil said, and then he interrupted himself with a yawn.

Andrew made an aborted sound and Neil turned to look at him. Their faces were close again and Andrew was staring at his lips. “I think you are trying to kill me.”

“If I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“I probably shouldn’t have said that, huh?” Neil said

“I liked it.”

“Well then, which one of us is not normal now?” Neil smirked. His gaze flickered down, Andrew’s lips parted, and Neil thought, maybe, just one more, quick-like, and he leaned closer, but Andrew shook his head and threw his gaze to the right. 

Kevin was standing in the doorway, Aaron behind him. Kevin hesitated, and Neil pulled back a little, watched him look at the couch, look at them, watched him force his shoulders to relax and then he smiled, and it was Kevin’s real smile. “Pizza’s ordered, what are we watching?” He plopped next to Neil, ruffled his hair, and propped his feet on the coffee table. 

“Did you just - what the fuck did you do to my hair?” Neil grumbled, but no one answered him so he relaxed back into Andrew’s side with a long suffering sigh. 

Aaron settled sideways in the loveseat, remote in hand and flipped through Amazon Prime for a while before settling on Jurassic Park after both Neil and Kevin affirmed that they hadn’t seen it - soliciting a simultaneous groan from the twins. Aaron threw a pillow at Andrew, except he missed and it went sailing across the room. 

Neil stared at it, frowning, and then finally said, “I did not think that was why they called them throw pillows.” 

“Oh my god, you have lost talking privileges,” Anrdrew said, covering Neil’s mouth with his hand. Neil promptly licked it and then grinned when Andrew yanked his hand back, but it was Aaron who said, _“Gross,”_ and Kevin kicked him and it was _nice._

Neil was just thinking that maybe pizza and movies really was an excellent idea when his phone rang. The only people who should really be calling him were in the room with him. Neil froze, and Andrew tensed next to him. Aaron was watching him, and Kevin sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. Neil looked at his phone. It was a blocked number. Fuck. He didn’t think it would happen this fast. He took a deep breath. Then another. Then stood up, closed his eyes, and answered the phone. 

“Hello.”

“Nathaniel,” Ichirou Moriyama drawled in his ear. “You summoned?” The sarcasm was scathing, even over the phone. 

“Lord Ichirou, I hoped to speak with you, yes.” Neil opened his eyes. Andrew had stood and was standing a foot away from him. Kevin was rigid, holding his breath. Aaron stared at him wide-eyed. 

“So speak, Nathaniel.”

Neil pushed his shoulders back, forced his voice to stay even. “Kevin and I have chosen to play for Palmetto State. We believe it is the best place for us to be noticed and recruited to the pros with the highest starting salaries. We will take the Foxes from last place to the top, securing success both for us and the Moriyamas.”

“How nice for you. However, I see not just two contracts but four in this delightful message you have sent me. How intriguing.”

Neil looked at Andrew. “Yes, my Lord. Andrew Minyard is the top ranked high school goalie in our league. He will go pro, and he will be court.” Neil meant it and his gaze didn’t waver from Andrew’s when he said it.

“Lovely. And I care about your exy boyfriend, why? He is not on my payroll.”

Neil blanched and pulled the phone away from his face like it had bit him. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._ That was fast. How did Ichirou know about Andrew already? He tried to catch a breath and then another, and then he startled because Andrew had taken his hand and squeezed. Nodded. Squeezed again. Neil breathed, and put the phone back to his ear. 

“No my Lord, Andrew is not on your payroll. But Jean Moreau is.”

“Oh Nathaniel. You are mistaken. Jean Moreau is not on my payroll. Jean Moreau is my property.”

Neil clenched his jaw. 

Andrew squeezed his hand.

“My Lord. I believe that Jean will make the most money for you if he plays for Palmetto. With us.”

“Ah. I see. With you, is it?” 

_Oh. Fuck._ Neil had fucked up. He held his breath and waited for Ichirou to continue.

“I have already given you one Raven, have I not Nathaniel? So greedy to be asking for two. You will soon run out of hands to give away.” Ichirou chuckled at his own joke. “I think one Raven is enough for you, little Butcher. I believe I shall keep the other one in the Nest.”

Kevin made a broken noise, but Neil threw him a sharp look and he stifled it. He could fix his misstep. “I would not dare to argue your decision, my Lord Ichirou. If I may say one more thing.”

“Of course. I have all the time in the world for you Nathaniel.” Ichirou’s voice came through the phone saccharine-sweet. 

Neil considered, and then switched to Japanese. “Thank you, my Lord. I would only say that I know you value your possessions. It might be time to plan a visit to the Nest. See that your uncle feels the same way that you do about...property.” 

Ichirou was silent on the line, and for a moment Neil thought he had hung up, but then a long drawn-out sigh came through the phone. 

“You know,” Ichirou said conversationally, switching to Japanese as Neil had. “I’m wondering what I was thinking to let you leave the family business. You would have been an asset to me.”

“My lord,” Neil said. It was all he could say. 

“I will consider your words,” Ichirou said, still in Japanese, and then the line clicked and he was gone. 

Neil dropped the phone. Kevin stood, and Aaron too. Andrew still had his hand. 

“Fuck,” Neil breathed. Kevin looked stricken. Aaron grabbed Kevin’s hand. “You could all hear him?” Everyone nodded. At least Neil didn’t have to repeat the conversation. 

Kevin looked like he was going to break. So Neil couldn’t. He straightened, let go of Andrew’s hand. 

“It could have been worse Kevin. It wasn’t a no.”

“It sounded like a no,” Aaron said apologetically. 

“Except that last part,” Andrew said. ”Which we did not understand.”

“Right,” Neil sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “I insinuated that his _property_ wasn’t being properly cared for. That perhaps he should drop in on the Nest. Check on his investment.”

“Oh. Do you think he will?” Aaron asked. 

“Yes,” Neil said. “Knowing Ichirou he will make an unannounced visit to see his uncle.” Neil’s legs felt wobbly. Maybe he actually wobbled, because Andrew grabbed his sleeve, tugged him back to the couch. Everyone sat. 

Aaron frowned. “What’s he going to find at the Nest?”  
  
“Nothing good,” Kevin said quietly. 

Neil was plastered up against Andrew again, and he didn’t want to move, so he just reached out a hand and Kevin reached back and grabbed hold, sliding over until the sides of their knees were touching. Aaron took the space Kevin had vacated, and now all four of them were on the couch. Neil was thinking that it was good that he and the twins were so small or else they wouldn’t fit, when the doorbell rang. 

Kevin and Aaron jumped and then froze, and Neil stilled for a moment before he startled into a laugh. “You ordered pizza.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Aaron said. 

Kevin finally managed to move, got the door, and put the pizza on the coffee table before piling back on the couch with them and collapsing on Neil, pushing him even further onto Andrew. “What now?” he all but whispered into Neil’s neck. 

“We wait,” Neil said, petting his hair. 

It was Monday.

It had been five days. 

They had nine more. 

It was going to be okay. 

No one made a move for pizza, and after a moment, Andrew made the dinosaurs go on the TV and curled his fingers around Neil’s.

They would wait. And if he had to, Neil would double down.

But not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, i performed a magic trick! before i posted this, there were two chapters left in the chapter count. now that i've posted it, there's still two chapters left in the chapter count. 
> 
> *tada!*


	8. Chapter 8

“This show is terrible,” Neil said. 

Andrew clicked to let the next episode play. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed. 

Neil glared at him. “Wait, why are we watching it then?” 

“Because Chuck Bass. And you finished Gilmore Girls.” 

“Chuck Bass,” Neil repeated. 

“He is hot.” 

“Is he,” Neil said, frowning. The next episode started and Neil squinted at the screen. “I don’t see it.” 

“You are blind then,” Andrew said conclusively. “Okay, what about that one?” he asked, pointing at Penn Badgley. “Hot right?”

Neil shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. They all just seem like selfish assholes to me,” Neil said. 

“Yeah, but they are _hot_ selfish assholes.” 

Neil shrugged, and yawned. “I miss Rory.” 

“Well, we can always just start Gilmore Girls over again.” 

“Oh?” Neil said, hopefully. 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Only if you’ll be okay without Chuck Bass,” Neil smirked. 

Andrew looked at his boyfriend - dark circles and all, he’d give Chuck Bass a run for his money and leave him in the dust. “I think I’ll manage,” Andrew hummed, scrolling through Neil’s Netflix history and back to season one episode one of Gilmore Girls. 

The familiar music cut on, and Neil visibly relaxed, yawned again, and leaned into Andrew’s side. None of them had really slept in the three days since Neil had spoken to Ichirou. The four of them had been holding vigil together in the afternoons at Neil and Kevin’s house, watching movies and _waiting,_ but today Aaron had to schedule a student council meeting after practice. Neil had left him the Audi and Kevin had driven them home in the Jeep - dropping the keys on the floor when they’d walked in and heading straight for the bedroom to pass out. 

Andrew kicked his feet up on the coffee table and tugged at Neil’s sleeve. “Come on,” Andrew said, pulling him towards him. 

“You sure?” Neil mumbled, but he was already halfway there, propping his feet up on the couch and laying his head in Andrew’s lap. Andrew slid his fingers into Neil’s hair, carding through his waves slowly. Neil sighed, closing his eyes, and Andrew’s heart hummed.

Neil was asleep in moments - his face softening, that full lower lip of his falling open. Andrew turned down the volume, and he barely made it through the first half of the episode before his eyes were closing too, his head falling forward.

He must have only dozed for a moment, as the afternoon sun was still streaming through the windows and Stars Hollow still bright and welcoming on the TV, when Andrew was startled awake by the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

“Well doesn’t this look cozy,” the man drawled. 

Time stopped for a breath and then narrowed in on itself as Andrew reached for his knives, as Neil launched to his feet in one fluid move, his gun suddenly in hand and pointed unerringly at the stranger standing in the living room. Neil’s hair was wild from Andrew’s fingers and his eyes were steel, and when he slid his thumb up deliberately to flip the safety off, it knocked the wind out of Andrew’s lungs and sent his blood pumping somewhere else entirely, and _fuck._ There was nothing sleepy about the Butcher’s Son, there was nothing hesitant about the line of his arm, the set of his jaw, the steadiness of his gun. This was Nathaniel Wesninski and he was not fucking around. 

“Abram,” the man said. “I’m surprised at you. A safety on your weapon? Waste of time and a good way to get killed.” Neil didn’t twitch, and Andrew stood at his side, a knife in each hand, blades pointed down and parallel to his forearms. Andrew knew how to use his knives, he’d had a plan to do just that once upon a time, and he’d use them now, for Neil. And anyway, who the fuck was Abram?

“Uncle Stuart,” Neil said, but he didn’t lower his gun. “Ever heard of a phone? Breaking into my house is a good way to get killed yourself.”

“You gave me a key.”

“Yeah, for emergencies,” Neil said irritably, but he finally lowered his gun, clicking the safety back into place and tucking it in the back of his jeans with the ease of a long practiced move, and Andrew resisted exploring just how hot _that_ was. 

“It is an emergency kid. Ichirou is on his way here.”

“Oh fuck,” Neil said, and Andrew agreed with that assessment. His heart battered itself against his ribcage, fueled by adrenaline, by the fact that this was happening now, as in _right the fuck now,_ and that this grown man - Neil’s uncle - had waltzed right in here while they all slept. 

“Yep. He is none too happy with you,” Stuart said. “And he will be none too happy to see me here either.” Andrew thought he looked a bit gleeful at this prospect. Something about that incongruous levity helped to rein in Andrew’s heartbeat. 

Neil raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t know you are here?”

“Nope,” Stuart grinned, popping the P. “Listen, you need to call off your boyfriend here and find that husband of yours, because I’d say we’ve got five minutes until the current Lord Moriyama shows up on your doorstep.”

“Andrew.” Neil flicked his gaze at Andrew’s knives, and Andrew shrugged and sheathed them. Neil was looking at him seriously now. “You have to go home. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Andrew said. No way in hell was he leaving.

“Unfortunately he’s right Abram. No time. If he leaves now and Ichirou sees him, he’ll just drag him back in here.”

“Fuck,” Neil said again. “Fucking hell, goddamnit!” Neil closed his eyes, stood statue still for only a moment, and when he opened them he set his shoulders and grimaced. “Okay then. We’re doing this.” He slipped into the back to wake up Kevin, leaving Andrew in the living room with Neil’s uncle. Andrew could see the resemblance - Stuart was maybe an inch taller than Neil, and rather more good looking than he should be in his tailored pinstripe suit. He looked to be in his early thirties, with Neil’s high cheekbones and defined jaw, but his British accent and dark sandy blond hair were a stark contrast to Neil. 

“Andrew, the boyfriend, hm?” Stuart said, reaching out a hand congenially. 

Andrew glanced at it and then back at Stuart. He wasn’t feeling congenial. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back casually on his heels. “Stuart, the uncle,” Andrew said. 

Stuart smiled then, and chuckled. “Well spotted,” he said. “Kind of small to be playing bodyguard to Abram aren’t you?”

 _“Neil_ doesn’t need a bodyguard, or haven’t you met him?” Andrew said drily. 

“Is that so,” Stuart said, narrowing his eyes a bit at Andrew. “And what, exactly, does he need that he is getting from you?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Leaning into the creepy uncle stereotype, I see?”

“Mmhm, maybe I just expected...more,” Stuart said, holding his hand out flat and then smirking as he raised it a foot higher - to about Kevin’s height. 

“Ditto,” Andrew deadpanned.

“Well aren’t you precocious,” Stuart said.

“Stuart,” Neil barked out sharply from the doorway, Kevin slightly mussed and wide-eyed at his side. Neil had a bundle of leather and hoodie in his hands. 

“What?” Stuart smiled wide and innocent. Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Stop it,” Neil said. 

“Fine, but you are well aware Ichirou doesn’t have the same sense of humor that I do,” Stuart said, tilting his head towards Andrew. 

Neil sighed. “Why are you even here?” he asked Stuart. 

“I am literally just here to help,” Stuart protested. 

“Then help!” Neil bit out, handing Stuart what turned out to be a shoulder holster with a gun in it. Stuart took it from him and helped Kevin put it on and cover it with the zip hoodie as Neil walked over to stand in front of Andrew.

Andrew gripped his elbows, and Neil leaned into his hands slightly. “Is this where you make a joke about bringing a knife to a gunfight?” Andrew said to him quietly. 

Andrew counted it as a win that Neil grinned, just a little. “I need you to stay quiet and not react. To anything that is said. Just. Please,” Neil said. 

Andrew wasn’t expecting it; he couldn’t stop himself from flinching, and Neil narrowed his eyes at him in concern. The Monsters knew not to say that word. Aaron and Nicky knew, and Erik too. He’d mostly gotten used to it, really - couldn’t make it through a day at school without a teacher or a classmate saying it, but. He wasn’t used to it from friends. From family. From Neil. But Neil didn’t know, because it hadn’t come up, because Andrew hadn’t told him, because Neil had never said please to him, before now. 

Andrew nodded, and Neil tried and failed to smile at him, and then there was a rapid and firm knock on the front door. 

The knock had a sobering effect on all of them - not that the mood had been jovial. Neil’s face shuttered and he turned resolutely towards the door. Kevin ran an anxious hand over the gun now strapped to his side and hidden under the zip hoodie. Stuart straightened his suit jacket, and Andrew forced his hands to stay relaxed at his side, even as his fingers twitched for the comfort of a knife. 

Lord Ichirou Moriyama was not what Andrew had expected. He’s not entirely sure what he had expected actually, but a tall, slim, extremely good looking man who couldn’t be older than 25 was not it. His suit was charcoal gray and exquisitely tailored, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his thick back hair pulled back from his chiseled face. Jesus fuck, was everyone Neil knew just, unbelievably gorgeous? Or was Andrew just incredibly gay? Who knew? Maybe there was a minimum hotness requirement to join the mob. Maybe there was some unknowable direct correlation between beauty and danger. Maybe Andrew had a kink for dangerous men and well, he just didn’t have the bandwidth to unpack that right now.

Neil spoke to Ichirou in Japanese and then bowed slightly, and Ichirou stepped into the center of the room, two large and rather less attractive men at his back, their suit jackets loose and open, making no attempt to hide the guns strapped to their sides. 

It was only because Andrew was watching so closely that he saw the brief hesitation in Ichirou’s step as his eyes landed on Stuart, and then his gaze paused on Andrew, cataloguing, stoic. Andrew had no doubts about the potential for violence contained within this man’s bespoke suit. 

Neil’s face was composed, unrecognizable, and he went to stand in between Andrew and Kevin. “Lord Ichirou,” Neil said in English now. “Welcome to my home. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am not in the mood Nathaniel,” Ichirou drawled, turning back to Stuart to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Stuart grinned. “I just dropped in to visit my favorite nephew is all.”

“Did you now,” Ichirou said, narrowing eyes at him before turning back to Neil and Andrew. “And this is?”

“Andrew Minyard,” Neil said before Andrew could even think to speak. “The goalie who will be joining Kevin and me at Palmetto State.”

“More than just _the goalie,_ I think,” Ichirou said. 

Neil nodded slightly but said nothing. Andrew bit the inside of his lip, forced himself to be still and quiet. He had all but promised with his nod; he would not break Neil’s trust. 

“I am wondering. Does Andrew Minyard know who I am?”

“Yes,” Neil said. 

“Ah. And does he know who you are, Nathaniel? Who you really are? What you have done in your short life, little Butcher?” Ichirou was talking to Neil but he was looking at Andrew, and he stepped closer. 

“Yes,” Neil said. “He knows enough.”

“Does your exy boyfriend not speak?” 

Andrew cut his eyes to Neil, and Neil nodded minutely. That was all the permission Andrew needed. 

“I speak,” Andrew said, tone neutral but his heart thudding in his chest. Neutrality was not his strong suit, and he wondered how quickly he could pull a knife if he needed. The four of them outnumbered Ichirou and his men, three guns to three guns - assuming Stuart was actually on their side - and Andrew wasn’t slow, wasn’t the top goalie in his league for nothing. Andrew kept his chin high as Ichirou looked him over, looking for what, though, Andrew did not know. 

“So, you have thrown your lot in with Nathaniel Wesninski and his husband,” Ichirou said, emphasizing _husband._

Andrew stared at him impassively.

“Nothing to say?” Ichirou said after a moment, cocking his head slightly. 

“You have seen my contract,” Andrew said in answer.

Stuart made a small choking sound that suspiciously sounded like an aborted laugh. Neil stepped closer to Andrew. Surprisingly, Ichirou’s mouth ticked up at the side. 

“Interesting,” Ichirou said, and with that he clearly dismissed him. Andrew wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but Ichirou stepped into Neil’s space next. 

“I visited my uncle, as per your...recommendation,” Ichirou said. “I am not happy with what I found. Apparently you were withholding information from me.”

“My lord, I would never dare to withhold information from you. I only hoped to come to you with a solution instead of a problem,” Neil said. 

“Yes that seems to be your way, isn’t it.” Ichirou flicked a look at Stuart. “I am again wondering why I let you go in the first place.”

“With all due respect my lord, I have never belonged to you,” Neil said, defiance coloring his tone.

“Respect,” Ichirou repeated. “Asking me for things that don’t belong to you. Withholding information. Did you expect I would ask for nothing in return?” Ichirou turned, spoke in Japanese to one of the men behind him, and the man nodded, walked out the front door. He turned back to Neil. “I have brought you a gift. Something you asked for. I do wonder Nathaniel, what you would give me in return for this gift.”

“I was under the impression that gifts are freely given, my lord,” Stuart said cheekily. 

“Perhaps,” Ichirou said thoughtfully, keeping his gaze trained on Neil. “Perhaps I will freely take this gift home and keep it for myself.”

“We have an agreement, Lord Ichirou,” Neil cut in. “Our ledger is balanced. I did not create the problem you still have at the Nest, only brought your attention to it and offered a solution.”

“You think I don’t know what you actually want?” Ichirou’s lips curved into a small smile, and for the first time he looked deliberately at Kevin, who was still and quiet and pale next to Neil. 

“I think you know everything, my lord,” Neil said. “I have never suggested otherwise.”

“Hm. Yes.” Ichirou considered Neil. “You may have given me a piece of information that led to me taking a possession back in hand. However, I have no reason to place that possession in your care except my own generous nature. This gift will unbalance our ledger.”

Stuart stepped forward, his face more serious than Andrew had seen it since he’d shown up in the living room. “The Hatford family will officially assume the onus of Nathaniel’s debt, in exchange for this gift,” he said formally with a small bow of his head. 

Ichirou whipped around to Stuart and his jaw clenched, but his voice was still smooth as silk when he said, “Nathaniel Wesninski is not a Hatford.”

“Abram is just as much a Hatford as he is a Wesninski, and the Hatford family will officially take on his debt,” Stuart repeated.

Ichirou gazed at him. “Interesting day that you chose to pay a visit to your nephew,” he mused. 

Stuart shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“Delightful,” Ichirou deadpanned. “Since you have so much free time for social visits right now I am sure you will accept my invitation to join me in New York immediately after this...meeting.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Andrew thought Stewart was stifling a grin but that couldn’t be true, could it? 

There was something that Andrew was missing about these two, but Ichirou’s henchman walked back into the house just then, his hand gripped around the elbow of a tall kid Andrew’s age, and _holy shit_ this had to be Jean.

It felt like all of the oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the room. Kevin failed to stifle a mangled cry and his involuntary step forward was swiftly halted by Neil’s hand wrapping around his wrist. Neil had gone impossibly more rigid beside him. Stuart’s grin had fallen and he was giving Neil a clear look of warning. Andrew’s fingers buzzed and his heart picked up a pounding rhythm again, and it was everything Andrew could do not to reach out for Neil’s other hand. 

Jean was here, Jean was _here,_ but he looked like someone had tried to dismantle him. His arms and legs were covered by the black and red tracksuit of an Edgar Allan Raven, but every inch of exposed skin was bruised and bloody. The left side of his face was so swollen that his eye was forced closed, an angry red slash cutting through his eyebrow, and the backs of his hands were crusty with dried blood, at least two of his fingers broken and bent awkwardly at the joints. The henchman let go of Jean’s arm and he swayed a little on his feet. Andrew could see him shaking from ten feet away, his posture fragile, the gaze of his one good eye locked on Kevin, and slowly, improbably, he smiled. 

Andrew abruptly realized that Neil and Kevin knew this was happening - exactly this. They knew that it would get worse if they didn’t get Jean out soon. They had been in the Nest, they had seen this before, they had lived it. Andrew’s stomach dropped and all he could think is what if that were Neil standing in front of him battered and bruised, standing upright through sheer force of will, and he wanted to drag his boyfriend away and lock him behind a door and stab anyone who came near.

Ichirou looked at Jean for a moment, his face unreadable, before turning to Neil. “Eighty percent. Have I made my meaning clear?”

“Crystal,” Neil said. 

“Lovely. From now on you are responsible for this,” Ichirou gestured lazily at Jean. “Don’t disappoint me Nathaniel.”

“My lord.” Neil bowed slightly. Kevin did the same next to him. Andrew didn’t twitch. 

Ichirou nodded. “Stuart,” he said, a clear order, and with no more ceremony than that, Ichirou turned and walked out of the house, his men following, Stuart on their heels.

“Stuart,” Neil stopped him, a hand on his arm. “Thank you I-” 

“You’re family,” Stuart interrupted, his grin back in place. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“But he’s taking you to New York now?” 

Stuart winked. “Like I said, don’t worry about it.” He started out the door again and then paused, turning a thoughtful look back on Neil. “Listen kid. Stop being so interesting. There’s a reason Ichirou did this little errand himself. He wants you back in the fold. But he is, twisted sense of humor aside, a man of honor. Don’t give him leverage again. Play your stickball, have your boyfriend, and don’t go calling in any more favors.”

With that, the house was empty of mobsters, the sudden silence ringing, and Jean took one step before his legs gave out and he was sinking. Before he could hit the floor Kevin had launched himself forward, dropping to his knees in front of Jean, catching him in strong arms as Jean collapsed, a fast litany of French spilling out of Kevin’s mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Neil exhaled. He grabbed Andrew’s hand and squeezed hard, his eyes on Jean. “Andrew, the door.” Andrew squeezed back, and Neil dropped down beside Kevin as Andrew went to lock the door, Kevin’s steady stream of words filling the air behind him as he paused to look out the window, and _oh._

Ichirou had Stuart pressed up against a shiny black town car, one arm pinned behind his back, kissing him punishingly, which would have been concerning except Stuart was leaning hard into him, clearly kissing him back. So that’s how it was. Andrew locked the door. 

Kevin was in a full blown panic when Andrew returned to the pileup on the floor. He was trying to pat Jean down, his eyes wide and wild, and he kept batting Neil’s hands away. 

“Kevin,” Neil said. “Let me help.”

“No,” Kevin rasped out, trying to unzip Jean’s jacket with trembling hands and failing. 

“Kevin,” Jean croaked, and it was the first thing he had said, and Kevin froze, fingers gripping the nylon fabric, tears running unheeded down his cheeks. “Kevin,” Jean said again, his voice little more than a wobbly exhale. “I’m fine.”

“You are _not_ fine,” Kevin sobbed, and he started moving again, pulling at the zipper. “I need to see, Jean, I need to see, I need to see,” he babbled in and out of French and English. “I need to see how bad it is.”

“I’m fine,” Jean said again, sounding slightly more convincing this time. He wrapped his good hand around the back of Kevin’s neck and Kevin stilled once more, his green eyes locked on Jean’s face. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is, I think, and I haven’t been allowed to sleep for days. I’d say it’s two broken fingers. A couple of cracked ribs. My nose might be broken. Kevin, hey, my love, hey,” he broke off when Kevin started gasping for air, and Jean pulled him into his neck and Kevin wrapped careful arms around him. 

Broken fingers, cracked ribs, eye swollen shut. This was not a list of things that were fine. Andrew’s gut twisted because he knew that _fine_ was relative; that Jean’s _fine_ was bookmarked by things that had been _not fine_ in the past. Andrew understood relativity. Andrew understood _survivable_ versus _not survivable._ This clearly wasn’t the first time Jean had catalogued his injuries for Kevin; Andrew vehemently hoped it would be the last. 

Neil was tense watching them, his hands hovering helplessly, and Andrew ached to touch him but he didn’t. Not yet. When Kevin finally let out a shuddering sigh and pulled back, he didn’t stop Neil from reaching out this time, and then it was the three of them - arms tangled cautiously around each other, breath and tears mingling, words of comfort and apology murmured brokenly in French. Maybe Andrew was intruding on this reunion but a whole army of mobsters couldn’t pry him from Neil’s side right now, so he sat back on his heels and waited. 

When they pulled apart again Neil reached back, and Andrew grabbed his hand tightly and held on. Jean turned towards Andrew with his good eye. “Is anyone going to introduce me to your friend?”

Kevin actually huffed a broken laugh at that, and Neil’s shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch. “Jean, Andrew,” Kevin said. “Neil’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Jean repeated. “That’s new.” It seemed like Jean was going to say more, but then he wheezed, and coughed, and then winced. “Fuck. Ow,” he huffed, pressing an arm to his ribs carefully and taking shallow breaths.

“Should we take him for help?” Andrew asked.

Neil shook his head, not looking at him. “We can’t go to the hospital.”

“Erik,” Andrew said. Kevin’s eyes snapped to him, and Jean was still looking at him. “He’s an ER doc. I can get him to help. It means we will have to tell him - and Nicky - the truth.”

Kevin looked at Neil, and Neil nodded. “Can he come here?” Neil was holding his hand still, but Andrew suddenly realized that Neil was actively not looking at him. Andrew squeezed his hand, and like before Neil squeezed back, but he didn’t look up. What the fuck.

“It would be better to go to my house. He keeps a good stock of supplies there.”

Neil nodded again. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

“Great,” Andrew said, suddenly desperate for Neil to look at him. “Let’s get some things for Jean then. He will need clean clothes, and nothing Aaron and I have is going to fit him.” 

“Okay,” Neil agreed. 

Andrew tugged Neil to standing and pulled him down the hallway and into his room, closing the door behind them. Andrew spun him around once they were alone, refusing to let go of Neil’s hand. Neil was staring at Andrew’s chin, and Andrew made a frustrated sound. “Why won’t you look at me?” he asked.

“I-,” Neil stopped. Andrew waited. Nothing happened, Neil was frozen, his hand locked in Andrew’s. 

“Neil,” Andrew said carefully. “What the fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Neil said quietly.

Andrew frowned. “For what?”

“This. All of this. I never wanted you to be here for this. I scared you,” Neil said bitterly.

“What are you talking about?”

“You flinched. You flinched away from me,” he said tonelessly. Andrew scanned his memory quickly, not sure what Neil was talking about, and then there, oh, that fucking word.

“Fuck. Neil. Look at me,” Andrew demanded.

Neil let out a breath, and finally, _finally_ looked up, and Andrew’s heart constricted at the guarded look in Neil’s eyes. 

“That is not what happened. Do you remember the day we met? In my kitchen. You flinched away from Kevin.”

“But that wasn’t-” Neil trailed off.

“Yes exactly. I know. And this _wasn’t_ either.” Andrew took a breath. “I do not like the word _please._ That is all,” Andrew managed to say, managed to hold back his shudder. He watched Neil intently, waiting for him to understand. Neil’s eyes widened, and he scanned Andrew’s face, looking for something, and whatever he found there brought his shoulders down another quarter inch. 

Neil didn’t ask why, because of course he didn’t.

“But the guns, and Ichirou. Stuart. All of this…” Neil trailed off. 

“I can handle it,” Andrew said, and he meant it. This hadn’t been an ideal way to spend the afternoon, but he could handle it. Mob bosses weren’t his first monsters and they probably wouldn’t be his last. 

“I know. But.” Neil’s voice wavered, but he didn’t look away. “I don’t want to be Nathaniel. I don’t want to be the Butcher. I don’t want to be like them.”

Andrew had never seen Neil anything but self-possessed and confident, taking care of everything and everyone with a wry grin on his face and a gun strapped to his leg. Now Neil was fraying, unraveling at the seams, falling, and fuck if Andrew wouldn’t catch him. He steeled himself, gripped Neil’s hips, held him steady. He could say these words. 

“You are not Nathaniel,” Andrew said, pressing closer. “You are not the Butcher. You are Neil. You whack garlic and bake messy cakes and laugh when you shouldn’t. You play exy like a demon and binge watch Gilmore Girls. You descend into hell to keep your people safe, and when you kiss me my whole world stops spinning just to realign itself around your lips.” Andrew brought a hand up to tug at Neil’s collar, to lay his fingers against his pulse. “I know who you are, and I am not scared of you,” he said, and he tightened his fingers, pulled Neil in, and kissed him. After the smallest hesitation Neil grabbed onto Andrew’s hoodie, kissing him back with abandon until they were both breathless from it. 

Eventually Andrew forced himself to pull back, to brush his thumbs along Neil’s jaw. "You are allowed to freak out you know," he said. 

Neil shook his head, but he huffed a small laugh and that precious sound eased the tension from Andrew’s body. "Am I though?" Neil asked.

"Yes. You are allowed," Andrew said firmly. "I’ve got you." And he tugged Neil close again, pulled him tight, leaving no space between them for anything but breath and warmth and safety.

Andrew held onto him for as long as was reasonable, and when they broke apart Neil started packing some of Kevin’s clothes for Jean and Andrew pulled out his phone. His finger hovered over Erik’s name, and then Nicky’s, but finally he thought better of it and called Aaron. 

“Doppelgänger,” Aaron said in greeting. 

“Are you at home?” 

“Yes, just now, what’s going on?” Aaron’s tone changed immediately in response to Andrew’s. 

“We’ve got Jean. He has been beaten up pretty badly. I think he will be okay, but he needs to be checked over and we cannot take him to a hospital.”  
  
“Shit. Oh fuck Andrew. Okay, okay. Oh. Erik?”

“Yes, exactly. Is he home?”

“Yeah he’s cooking dinner with Nicky. What do you need?”

“Tell them enough of the truth that they won’t give us a hard time about this tonight. Make Erik understand why we can’t take Jean to the hospital. Promise we will tell them everything tomorrow, and get the guest room ready?”

“On it.”

“Quickly. We’ll be there in ten.”

“I’ve got it.” Aaron hung up. 

Neil was watching him, bag in hand. “Okay?” Andrew asked.

“Okay,” Neil agreed. He took a breath, smiled a little, and straightened. The uncertainty of a moment ago had melted away. Andrew took the bag from him and they headed back to the living room. 

Jean’s good cheek was resting on Kevin’s shoulder, his breathing even and his eyes closed when they returned to the living room. “He fell asleep,” Kevin whispered, and he appeared to have it more together now, ghosting gentle hands along Jean’s shoulders. 

Neil dropped down next to them, running fingers through Jean’s hair and murmuring until he managed to wake him up, and he and Kevin pulled him carefully to his feet. Andrew grabbed the keys and held the door as Kevin and Neil flanked Jean, making their way slowly out the door to the Jeep. 

It was barely ten minutes later before they pulled into Andrew’s driveway, and then it was helping Jean out of the car and up the steps, his face locked in a determined grimace. Nicky threw the door open before they even reached it, eyes wide, but Aaron must have managed to convince them quickly, because Nicky didn’t say anything, just held the door open wordlessly. 

Aaron was already helping set up in the guest room. Erik’s blue eyes were stormy and his face disapproving under his beard, but he had his sleeves rolled up, antiseptic and bandages already at hand. Andrew knew this was asking so much of him, and gratitude for his family rushed through him. They trusted him - trusted Aaron too - and had mobilized to help them in ten minutes with no questions asked. It was staggering. 

They got Jean to the bed. He was having a hard time staying conscious, which was throwing Kevin back into panic mode. Neil had his hands full trying to talk Kevin off the ledge and simultaneously help get Jean situated. There was a lot of French going on and a lot of bodies piled into the smallest of their bedrooms, and finally Erik had enough. “Out!” he commanded, pointing at the door. “Kevin can stay, everyone else out, I need some space to work.”

They waited, hovering by the door, which Erik had pushed closed after them. Nicky’s face was ashen, but he was quiet still, leaning against the wall next to Aaron. Andrew could feel Nicky’s gaze flit to him occasionally and then bounce away, and oh, yeah. When they’d brought Andrew back to Columbia so many years ago, it had been Erik who had seen Andrew’s wounds for what they were, who had calmed him down and patched him up after Andrew had flown into a panic when they’d tried to take him to a hospital. Andrew could imagine this was a lot for Nicky. Fuck, it was a lot for him, too. 

“I’m going to make soup,” Nicky announced. “Chicken noodle yeah? He’s going to need to eat at some point. That would be good. Homemade chicken noodle soup. I think we have the right ingredients. I guess I could go to the store,” Nicky babbled. 

“Nicky,” Neil cut in. “I’m sorry to bring this into your home. I know this is-” 

Nicky was already shaking his head vehemently, and he stepped to Neil, pulled him into a tight hug, and Neil squeaked. “You are family. A Monster. Didn’t we tell you we’re keeping you? You can’t get away this easily.” Neil’s eyes were wide when Nicky let him go, squeezing his shoulders for good measure. Andrew didn’t know what Aaron had told Nicky but whatever it was had clearly been effective. “Aaron? Help me make soup?” Nicky sniffed, and Aaron pushed off the wall, catching Andrew’s eye. 

_You okay?_

_Yeah._

_This is good, right?_

_Yeah._

_Neil looks like he’s going to collapse._

_I got it._

_I know._

_Hey. Thank you._

_Always._

Aaron followed Nicky downstairs, and Andrew and Neil kept holding up the wall in silence as the minutes passed. So many minutes that they were rounding out the second hour before Erik came out, closing the door behind him. 

He took one look at Neil’s face and didn’t beat around the bush. “Jean’s going to be fine. Some cracked ribs, but nothing punctured internally. It’s just going to take some time and it’s going to hurt him to breathe for a while. His nose and his pinky and ring finger on the left hand are broken, but they will heal, and they wouldn’t do much more than I did for him, even at an orthopedic. A lot of cuts and bruises - I think his eye will be okay once that gash starts to heal. I stitched him up and cleaned up the blood.” Erik paused when the door opened again and Kevin came out. 

“He’s asleep,” Kevin said quietly. 

“Good,” Erik said. “I gave him antibiotics, which will help with infection. Mostly he needs rest - and food when he wakes up. The painkillers I gave him will keep him knocked out for quite a while, though.” 

“We never had painkillers.” Kevin still looked wild around the edges. “It used to be me you know. It used to be me that stitched him up, and there was no - we weren’t allowed anything for the pain, no anesthetic, it was just...I used to sew him up, he only had me, and I left him,” he gasped out. 

Kevin was folding in on himself, and Erik was staring at him in horror, and before Andrew realized what was happening Kevin had pulled back - his face twisting, his scarred left hand clenched in a fist - but before he could throw the punch into the drywall Neil was at his side, both arms wrapped around him, pinning his fist to his body and Kevin crumpled, sobbing into Neil’s neck, clinging to his shirt. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he muttered over and over again into Neil, and Neil held on to him, held him tight, never wavered until Kevin took a gasping breath, and then another, and then one that shuddered through him as he pulled himself together and finally pulled back, sniffling. 

Kevin wiped his sleeve uncaring across his face. “Thank you,” he said to Erik in a raw voice, his heart bleeding earnestness into the words. He turned and went back to Jean. 

Erik stared after him. “None of this is okay,” he said, and his face was wrecked. “You are kids. None of this is okay.” 

“I know,” Neil said, but he didn’t say anything else. 

Erik sighed. “Aaron said we would talk more tomorrow. That’s good. I will take care of Jean - I can call in tomorrow. But he will be fine. You two should rest, you look like hell. Have you eaten? Nicky and I were making dinner. Come eat.” 

Andrew nodded at him - apparently this was a day for his family to babble, and that was okay, that was okay, because Andrew was beginning to realize that everything actually _was_ okay. 

Erik rested a hand on Andrew’s shoulder briefly before he padded downstairs, and then it was just Neil and Andrew in the hallway. 

“It’s-,” Neil started. He scrubbed at his face. “Everything-,” he tried again, stopped. 

“Neil,” Andrew said. “It is done. You did it. Jean is here, he is safe, everything is going to be okay.” 

Neil stared at him. “I did it,” he repeated. 

“You did,” Andrew agreed. 

“I did,” Neil said again, and then he was deflating, sinking right before Andrew’s eyes, his knees giving out in slow motion as he sagged, but Andrew was there, his arms wrapped around Neil’s waist, holding him up for the second time that day. Andrew hauled Neil against his side and led him down the hall to his own room. Neil allowed himself to be dragged placidly and didn’t resist as Andrew sat him on the edge of his bed. Andrew shut the door, slid the deadbolt, and closed the curtains. He sent a quick text to Aaron about dinner, put Portishead on low on his speakers, and then turned back to Neil who was listing sideways. 

“Hold on,” Andrew said softly, and he knelt in front of Neil, took off his shoes, his oxford shirt, carefully slid the gun out of his waistband and put it in the drawer of his bedside table. “Can we take your jeans off?” Andrew asked, and Neil nodded once, so Andrew pulled him to his feet, helped him off with his jeans too, until Neil was left standing in his boxers and t-shirt. Neil watched him silently as Andrew kicked off his own shoes, pulled off his hoodie and his armbands. He paused then, looked at Neil, and Neil nodded again, so Andrew peeled his jeans off, adding them to the pile on the floor. 

He pulled Neil into his bed then, under the warmth of his feather duvet and behind the safety of a locked door. Andrew wrapped around Neil, and Neil sighed wearily as he sank into Andrew, and they both tumbled quickly and quietly into sleep, lulled by the refuge of each other’s arms and the knowledge that their people were safe.


	9. Chapter 9

Neil slept in Andrew’s arms for twelve hours. 

When they woke up and untangled themselves, Andrew shoved him into the bathroom, and was waiting for him with a bottle of water, an oversized hoodie, and some sweat pants when he came out. Neil kissed him, because he got to do that now, and when they passed the guest bedroom door Andrew squeezed his hand and left him there, mumbling about breakfast. 

Jean’s eyes were closed when Neil slipped into the room. Kevin was stretched out next to him on the bed. He smiled weakly at Neil and reached out a hand. “Hey,” he said softly. “He’s not asleep.” 

“I’m not asleep,” Jean agreed, without opening his eyes. 

Kevin looked tired, but calmer than he’d been last night. Jean was already looking better after a full night's sleep. Neil imagined Kevin had kept eyes on him all night. 

“Kevin, why don’t you go downstairs and get something to eat.” Kevin started shaking his head but Neil kept going before he could say anything, “And you can bring something up for Jean too, he needs to eat.” 

Kevin stared at him, and then sighed before rolling off the bed. He kissed Jean carefully on the forehead and then did the same to Neil as he passed him. 

“Still arranging the world and everyone in it I see,” Jean said after he was gone, but it was fond, and he finally opened his eyes and looked at Neil. Neil felt his grey gaze like a racket to the gut. 

He’d _missed_ Jean. It felt like a waking dream to have him back here, in front of him - a dream Neil could only believe was real because in his dreams Jean wouldn’t be battered and bruised and bandaged. Jean was here, though, and he was battered and bruised and bandaged but he would heal, he would play again, and he was safe. 

Jean was safe.

Neil’s knees felt a little weak with it, and he crawled carefully into the bed, taking Kevin’s spot next to Jean, brushing gentle fingers through his hair. Jean closed his eyes again and hummed softly. It was quiet and warm, and Neil leaned his head back against the headboard too. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil said quietly. 

“Don’t,” Jean said, but Neil couldn’t stop. 

“I should have gotten you out sooner. I didn’t know, not until you called. We thought - I thought it was done with Riko. I am sorry that I took so long,” Neil insisted softly, his heart aching even as it swelled at having Jean by his side again. He carded his fingers again and again in Jean’s hair, grounding himself in the realness of it. “And the tithe. It is so much. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m sorry.” 

Jean didn’t say anything for a moment, and then asked neutrally, “Are you done?” 

Neil frowned and opened his eyes to look down at him, his hand paused in Jean’s hair, but Jean’s eyes were still closed. “Yeah?”

“Good,” Jean said. “First of all - don’t stop with the petting. I like the petting. Second of all. Shut the fuck up. If you really think I am going to let you sit there and, and _apologize_ \- Neil. What the fuck.” Jean did open his eyes then, and turned his head to look at Neil. “You couldn’t have known, and even if you did know, it should never have been your job.” 

“I promised,” Neil interrupted. 

“You did, love. You promised. And you got me out. You got Kevin out. You did it. I don’t care about the money,” he said firmly, his eyes shining. “If I ever hear you apologize again for - for _saving_ me, I will punch in you in your pretty fucking face.” 

Neil huffed a laugh at that, and pressed his forehead to Jean’s. “So violent.” 

“Yes,” Jean agreed, seriously. “But we were born and bred in violence, n’est ce pas?” 

Neil sighed, and went back to petting Jean’s hair. “I missed you,” he said. 

Jean closed his eyes again and settled against his arm. “I am very miss-able,” he agreed. “Now, tell me how it felt.” 

Neil raised an eyebrow at the ceiling. “Which part?” he asked. 

“Shooting Nathan five times. Kevin said you emptied your gun into his face.” 

“Ah.” Neil felt a smile start to creep across his lips, and because this was Jean and he could tell him the truth, he said, “It was the best day of my life.” 

Jean hummed at that. “Good,” he said. “But one day it won’t be, and that is good too.” 

Neil thought about Andrew, thought about the Monsters and the Foxes, thought about Jean and Kevin safe and their whole lives ahead of them, and said, “I think you are right.” He trailed his fingers through Jean’s hair and sat in the promise of that thought for a while, and then asked, “What else did Kevin tell you?”

“Are you worried?” Jean asked, amused. 

Neil did laugh then. “Probably.”

Jean let out the smallest chuckle and then held up his good hand, putting a finger up for each thing. “That he killed Lola, that your Uncle took over for the Butcher, that you two got married,” Jean took a breath here, the tiniest pause, “that Kevin met his dad, and that you apparently are in love with the tiny blond man and are going to have all his babies.”

“I take it back, I didn’t miss you at all,” Neil said, thumping him lightly on the side of the head. 

“Liar.”

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. He hesitated. “About the marriage-”  
  
“Neil,” Jean interrupted drily. “I do not have the energy or enough unbroken fingers to punch you right now.”

“What, so I am never allowed to apologize to you again?”

“That sounds about right,” Jean said. 

“It’s not fair to you,” Neil said.

“Nor to you,” Jean said. “I’m not upset about it.”

“Liar.”

Jean huffed. “Maybe a little. I was...surprised.”

Neil squeezed his eyes shut and let his fingers trail to a different spot on Jean’s head, and waited. He and Kevin had lived all of this, had a year to deal with the aftermath, and Jean had come out of hell to find his boyfriend married to someone else, to find Neil...well. Neil gave him another minute, was just about to give up and say something, when Jean broke the silence again. 

“Does your boyfriend know?” Jean asked. 

“His name is Andrew,” Neil said. 

“Yes fine, does Andrew know?”

Neil thought about asking which part, then realized with an oddly settling flutter in his stomach that it didn’t matter. Andrew knew everything. 

He said as much to Jean. 

“Everything,” Jean repeated incredulously. 

“Everything,” Neil said firmly. 

“Oh. Huh.”

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. 

Jean reached up slowly and pulled Neil’s hand out of his hair and tangled their fingers together carefully. “I am happy for you,” he said.

Neil knew he meant it, and because he _knew_ Jean, he knew he wasn’t done. So he waited. 

“I wish it could have been us,” Jean added on an exhale, like he hadn’t wanted to say it. Like he couldn’t help but say it. All of the hope that Jean and Kevin once had for the three of them, all of the subsequent heartbreak, was laced into those words. Jean brought Neil’s hand to his lips, and he kissed the ends of his fingers, and Neil knew - as much as it hurt to hear it - that Jean had needed to say it. 

Neil wanted to apologize, but he wouldn’t. Not just because Jean would punch him in the face, either. Of all the things he’d cultivated control over, this had been the one thing he couldn’t control. How his body leaned into Andrew’s when he kissed him, how he wanted his breath and his touch, how he let him hold him up like no one else. 

He couldn’t apologize. Wouldn’t. Not for this. 

Andrew was not something Neil could have anticipated. 

When Neil didn’t say anything, Jean sighed, and dropped their tangled hands on his chest. “Tell me about him,” he said. 

Neil did. He snuggled deeper into the bed and told Jean about when he’d first met Andrew, in this house, how he’d talked about murder stabby torture like it was nothing, how he’d accepted Neil and his past without question, how he’d used his own scars to protect Neil, how he’d stepped forward and offered himself to the Foxes, how he teased Neil, held him up, how he kissed him and how Neil’s heart thrummed in his chest at his touch. Jean listened, asked questions, let out small laughs as he played with Neil’s fingers, and the tension of past heartache between them eased.

When Kevin returned with breakfast he had Andrew in tow, and they both carried trays laden with food - oatmeal and muffins and fruit and coffee. Andrew’s eyes slid past Neil laying snug next to Jean. There was no heat in it, but Neil crawled off the bed anyway, relinquishing his spot to Kevin after they both helped Jean prop up in the bed. 

Kevin sat next to Jean, and Andrew pulled Neil down into the overstuffed chair with him - he landed half on Andrew’s lap, but that was fine. More than fine. 

Neil realized he was starving - the missed dinner last night coming back to haunt him with a vengeance, and he took a bowl of oatmeal from Andrew gratefully after gulping down some coffee. 

It was quiet while they ate, and when Jean finished he had clearly run to the end of his reserves, because he handed his bowl off to Kevin and his eyes fluttered closed as he slid back down in the bed. 

“So, Andrew,” Jean said sleepily, once he was laying flat again. 

“No,” Neil said. 

“What? You said he knows everything.” Jean had half a grin on his face. 

“Jean,” Neil said warningly. 

“Fine. But only because I am so tired I can’t remember what I was going to say. But if you think for one minute…” 

“What?” Neil prodded when he trailed off. 

“I think he’s asleep,” Kevin whispered. 

“Darn,” Andrew said dryly. “I missed out on a second shovel talk.” 

“He wouldn’t,” Neil said, and then what Andrew said registered, as did the sheepish look on Kevin’s face. “Wait, what do you mean _second_?” 

“You didn’t think it took _that_ long to make oatmeal did you?” Andrew said with a raised eyebrow.

“Kevin, you didn’t,” Neil whispered fiercely, horrified. 

“Someone had to,” Kevin said, refusing to look at him.

“Someone did _not_ have to,” Neil corrected him. “Kevin, _really?_ ”

“Yes, really,” Kevin said with some fierceness of his own, finally looking at him. “I know we don’t always do a good job of it showing it - of taking care of you like you take care of us - but Jean and I fucking love you. A lot. Andrew needed to know what exactly would happen if he hurt you.” 

Neil was speechless, staring at him, and before he could figure out what to say, Jean lifted one hand from the bed and pointed in the general direction of Andrew and Neil. “Yeah, same goes for me, whatever Kevin’s shovel said, but with more blood.”

Andrew wrapped both arms around Neil, pulling him in tighter. “Noted,” he said, and Neil realized that Andrew’s tone wasn’t sarcastic, was instead deadly serious and filled with promise. 

Kevin nodded solemnly, and Neil frowned, biting his bottom lip as he glared at Kevin, but Kevin ignored him, and Andrew reached up to thumb Neil’s lip out of his mouth which made Neil laugh.

After a moment Jean started snoring lightly, and Neil pulled Andrew out of the room so Kevin could finally, hopefully, get some sleep too. 

While Kevin and Jean slept, Neil and Andrew told Nicky and Erik everything. Well, almost everything. Aaron sat with them for support. Erik’s face was stoic, and he stayed strong for Nicky who had inched closer and closer to him as Neil talked, wrapping both hands in his husband’s. He didn’t cry though, which Neil had been worried about, and when Neil was finished, Nicky nodded once, took in a deep ragged breath, pasted on a smile, and then said, “So, you two are dating now?” 

***

After, Erik insisted they all three stay for the next week so he could keep an eye on Jean. Andrew drove Neil the few blocks to his house to pick up things for him and Kevin, but when they got to the driveway Neil didn’t get out of the Audi. He sat there, hands in his lap, staring at the house. He knew Andrew’s eyes were on him, waiting for him, no hurry to be or do anything, just there. For him. It felt. Good. Neil felt good.

“It’s over,” Neil said. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“This is real,” Andrew said. He held his hand out on the console, and Neil took it, rubbed his thumb against the callus on the inside of Andrew’s pointer finger - the one right where his heavy goalie racket sat. 

“Thank you,” Neil said, turning to look at Andrew. “For yesterday.” For everything, he really meant, but he didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know how to say it _enough._ The last week had been Andrew holding him up, keeping him together, no questions asked. He hadn’t flinched away from the worst of Neil’s life, hadn’t flinched away from Neil. Instead, he had wrapped him up like he was something precious. Something to care for. It was amazing. 

Neil smirked a bit, remembering. And Andrew tugged at his fingers and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You said when you kiss me your whole world stops spinning just to realign itself around my lips.” Neil meant it to be teasing, but it came out a bit breathless. Andrew’s ears turned pink - which Neil thought might be one of his new favorite things - and then Andrew pulled Neil across the console and kissed him stupid. 

Well. 

Then it was Andrew’s turn to smirk, and Neil felt a bit dazed. Andrew kissed him again, and again, and Neil had to keep himself from climbing over the console. He really, really liked this whole kissing Andrew thing. 

When they came up for air, Andrew brushed Neil’s hair back from his forehead and asked, “Why did Stuart call you Abram?”

“Ah,” Neil said, sitting sideways in his seat and resting his temple on the leather so he could keep looking at Andrew. “It’s my middle name - the only name that came from my mom, from the Hatfords. She used to call me that, since my name was so like my father’s.”

Andrew considered him, cataloging his face. “I like Neil better,” he said. 

“Me too,” Neil agreed, giving Andrew his half smile. 

“Oh,” Andrew perked up, his eyes widening. “Would now be a good time to tell you I saw Ichirou and your uncle making out in this driveway?”

It took a moment for that to register, and then Neil sat bolt upright. “What?” he all but squawked. 

“Yep,” Andrew said.

Neil’s mind raced, thinking about Stuart showing up in his house, thinking about Stuart going to New York, thinking about how they’d all survived yesterday. “Fuck,” he breathed. 

“Yep,” Andrew agreed.

“I was not expecting that,” Neil said, contemplating the implications, the possibilities, as he relaxed back into the seat. “I hope he doesn’t fuck it up.”

Andrew hummed agreement, rubbing his fingers along Neil’s wrist bone. “Teach me to handle a gun?” Andrew asked after another minute. 

“Of course. Do you want to use mine or do you want your own?” Andrew blinked at him. Neil grinned wider, shrugging a little. “I told you. I gave up on normal.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, but he leaned forward and kissed Neil slowly, and it was hot, and Neil was starting to get an inkling about how Andrew felt about his gun. “I’ll start with yours,” Andrew said against his lips when he had pulled back an inch. 

“Okay,” Neil breathed against him. “It’s really going to be okay, isn’t it?” Neil said.

“Yes,” Andrew agreed, kissing the corner of his mouth for good measure. “I think it really is.”

***

“What about this one?” Neil asked, running his fingers along a bed that looked like it belonged to Vlad the Impaler. 

Andrew eyed the pointy iron canopy bed with disdain. “Are you fucking with me now?”

Neil tried to tamp down his amusement, to wrangle an innocent look on his face, but he knew he was failing epically so he gave up and just laughed. “Yes. I am absolutely fucking with you.”

“Menace,” Andrew said, and he glared at Neil, but his eyes were sparkling as he ran a hand along the bed in the same place Neil had. “At least this one is better than the velvet monstrosity.” 

“I genuinely liked that one.” Neil grinned over his shoulder when Andrew snorted at him. He moved on to the next bed, this one a satin headboard with faux fur blankets strewn across it. 

Everything in Restoration Hardware just seemed so _extra,_ but for some reason this is where Andrew had wanted to go, dragging him past Pottery Barn with a scoff, and West Elm with an eye roll. 

Neil scanned the far side of the store, searching for a somewhat normal looking bed, but got distracted by the most amazing looking couch he’d ever seen - it was inviting and deep and looked like it would fit him and Andrew and Jean and Kevin, and maybe a handful of Monsters with room to spare. He sat down smack dab in the middle of it, sinking into the feather stuffed cushions and running his hands on the soft, distressed leather before sliding all the way back. 

Neil laughed: tucked all the way against the backrest, his feet didn’t reach the floor. 

He looked up to find Andrew watching him, the look on his face indecipherable. Neil crooked a finger at him, which earned him a _different_ look, but also a boyfriend snugged up next to him on the magic couch. 

“I like this one,” Neil said. 

“This one is not a bed,” Andrew said. He’d thrown one leg over Neil’s, their shoes floating a solid foot above the floor. 

“It could be. Don’t you wanna sleep with me on this couch?” Neil watched Andrew’s ears pink, heard his breath catch. 

“You can’t say those things in public,” Andrew all but growled at him. 

“Oops?” Neil grinned, biting his bottom lip, not realizing what he was doing until Andrew reached out and tugged his lip free of his teeth and, well. Yeah.

“Hurry,” Andrew said, still looking at Neil’s mouth, and Neil lost the entire thread of the conversation for a moment. 

“Hurry?” he repeated. 

Andrew turned his head and leaned in, and for a moment Neil thought he was going to kiss him, and he would have been just fine with that, but instead Andrew’s lips brushed softly against his ear, and then he whispered, “Hurry up and pick a bed Neil, because I really want to kiss you and I am not going to do it in the middle of Restoration Hardware.”

Andrew pulled back, his face composed but his eyes lit like fire, and it was Neil’s turn to trip over his own breath. 

Neil picked a bed. 

It was a good one too, he thought, a week later when the delivery men brought it in, set it up, and carted away all the cardboard and trash. It was a king - Andrew had insisted - and Neil had pulled out his AmEx Black because he could. The bed was ivory linen over a headboard and footboard that curved invitingly, and they had outfitted it with a memory foam mattress, copious amounts of feather pillows, and a down comforter covered in the softest cotton duvet. It looked like a cloud. It looked cozy, warm, and safe. It looked like a good place to sleep - among other things. 

Andrew slipped into the bedroom behind him. “They’ve finished with the couch.”

Oh, yeah. He'd bought the couch too.

Neil felt rather than heard as Andrew came into the space behind him, strong arms wrapping around him, and Neil closed his eyes and let his head fall back on Andrew’s shoulder, sighed when Andrew nosed behind his ear, kissed down his neck. “Can we talk?” he murmured against Neil’s skin, and it took a minute for Neil to realize what he said. 

“Yeah?” Neil said curiously, feeling a strange counter tug of confusion - he felt like someone had said those words to Rory Gilmore right before breaking up with her, but they certainly didn’t say them while leaving a trail of searing kisses down her throat. Andrew had worked his way around to the front of Neil, kissed his collar bones, then his jaw, before dragging him over to the bed. 

They kicked off their shoes and crawled to the middle of the fluffy nest before splatting out side by side. 

It really was a good bed. 

Andrew rolled to his side, pulling a pillow closer and tucking it under his head - it was a king sized pillow to go with the king sized bed - and Neil rolled to his side too, propping his head on the same pillow and curling his hand around Andrew’s. 

“I like this,” Neil said. 

Andrew made an exasperated sound and leaned forward to kiss Neil gently, chastely, before settling back on the pillow again. He sighed. Neil waited. Andrew closed his eyes. Neil looked at his pale eyelashes resting on his cheek. His fingers were tucked against Andrew’s wrist, and Neil could feel his pulse pick up. Neil frowned, and started rubbing a small gentle circle on the heel of Andrew’s hand. “Whatever it is-” Neil started, a little worried, wanting to soothe him, but Andrew cut in. 

“I want to have sex with you,” he said in a rush, his eyes squeezed closed. 

Neil’s heart stopped beating for a second and he had a suspicion that his mouth was hanging open, and he scrambled for words. “Okay. Now?” 

Andrew opened his eyes, something unfathomable in their depths as he looked back at Neil, and Neil had the feeling that while he hadn’t quite said the wrong thing, he hadn’t said the right thing either. “Did I say something weird?” he whispered, giving Andrew his crooked grin and Andrew sighed heavily and tugged him a little closer. Neil went happily. 

“No,” Andrew whispered back. “But would you just-” he stopped. Started again. “You would? Right now?” 

Neil didn’t know how to tell him anything but the truth. “Yes,” he said simply. 

“Menace,” Andrew said, but it was softer than he’d ever said it, and Neil almost shivered. 

“I want to have sex with you,” Andrew said again. “I want you to know that.” He paused and took a deep breath. Let it out. “I want you to know that because I think it is going to take a while. For me to...be able to. I don’t want you to be wondering if it is...I just want you to know.” 

Neil couldn’t stop himself from reaching to run a finger along Andrew’s bottom lip, the line of his jaw. Andrew was so pretty. And strong. And safe. Once Neil had realized _why_ he was looking, he hadn’t been able to stop. “I want to have sex with you too,” he said, trailing his fingers down Andrew’s neck. “But we have time. To figure this out.”

“Okay,” Andrew said. 

“Okay,” Neil said. “Can we make out now?” 

Andrew rolled his eyes at him, but he leaned up, hovered over Neil for a moment, and then his lips were on Neil’s and it was good, and Andrew’s clever hands found the hem of Neil’s shirt, slid up against his skin warm and sure, his fingers tucked easily into Neil’s ribs - and if they paused for a moment to get rid of Andrew’s knives and to slide Neil’s gun between the mattresses, well, they were still just two teenagers kissing and touching and grinning in an eight thousand dollar bed until they had to pull apart to cool down, hearts racing and hands entwined as they stared at the ceiling and talked about exy and plans for Christmas and the Palmetto State Foxes until they had inched closer again, until they were kissing again, until they were breathless with it. 

***

Andrew barely recognized his life anymore, but he wasn’t mad about it.

Thanksgiving came and went, and December saw them settling into their own new normal with Jean mostly healed, enrolled at Columbia High, and back on the exy court. 

Andrew had been amused at the unofficial try out for Jean, watching Coach Hernandez shake his head in confusion, and rightly so - Jean was as good a backliner as Neil and Kevin were strikers. Somehow three players with mind boggling talent had just walked out of nowhere and onto his court. Wymack had come down the next week to watch them scrimmage, a slow satisfied smile creeping across his face as he watched the backliner that he had signed sight unseen. 

The Foxes were going to be unstoppable. 

Wymack started driving to Columbia every week when he could, watching practice, taking Kevin - and sometimes Jean - out to dinner after. Occasionally Neil and Andrew tagged along. It was awkward, but nice, and they’d all been there when Kevin had called Wymack dad for the first time. Neil had squeezed Andrew’s hand under the table so hard he’d left half moon indents in his skin with his fingernails.

The Monsters accepted it all with barely the bat of an eye. When Neil had introduced them to a still healing Jean and given them a watered down version of the truth, Mads’ had held up a hand and said, "Let me get this straight-" 

Sam cleared her throat loudly at that. "Don't you mean _let me get this gay?_ " she had asked.

"Oh my god," Aaron had groaned when Jade started giggling.

Mads had shushed all of them, holding up his hand. “Fine. Let me get this _gay._ Kevin and Neil are married because of some mobster shenanigans, but we’re all safe so there’s nothing really to worry about, and Jean is Kevin’s boyfriend and Neil and Andrew are dating now, and you are all going to play exy at Palmetto State together like one big happy family with Kevin’s dad?”

“That about sums it up, yes,” Neil had said cautiously.

Mads had turned to Sam at that and said, “You’re right. It’s all very, very gay,” and then shrugged and said, “so what movie are we watching tonight?”

And that had been that. 

Now, when Jean turned to brandish his whisk at Neil and Andrew, his own collection of Jade’s friendship bracelets wrapped around his wrist, Andrew felt a stab of warmth run through him at how his family and his Monsters had folded Jean seamlessly into their lives - just like they had with Neil and Kevin. 

“I’ve figured it out! Kevin,” Jean threw over his shoulder, glaring at Andrew in triumph and talking loud enough to be heard over the Billie Eilish Neil had been blasting all morning, “Neil traded us in for _le petit_ model because we are too tall.”

Oh well. There went the warmth. 

Kevin ignored his boyfriend, his back turned to all of them, but his shoulders were shaking suspiciously. 

Andrew just arched an eyebrow at Jean and pulled Neil down into a loud, wet kiss, eyes locked with Jean’s the whole time. He got flour up his nose and Neil started laughing halfway through the kiss, but Andrew felt that his point had been made. 

“Gross,” Jean said, turning back to the icing he was whipping, but there was a sparkle in his grey eyes. 

“You really should have told me you actually have _two_ husbands before I kissed you the first time,” Andrew muttered at Neil, which just sent him into another laughing fit. 

“I’m so thrilled you three get along,” Neil said, when he got himself back under control. “The level of joy it brings me is just indescribable.” 

Kevin made a disbelieving noise and Andrew ignored all of them to turn back to the sugar cookie dough he was mixing. Tonight would be the last Monsters sleepover before Christmas, and Neil had been determined to get the sugar cookie recipe right. Yesterday’s attempt had resulted in flat cookies with brown edges and middles that fell apart. The day before they had been too puffy, like little sugar cookie pillows. Today they’d all been bullied into helping, which meant Andrew had to deal with Jean. 

Neil smiled at him then. He was covered in flour from head to toe, the small gap in his smile on full display as he wrangled the rolling pin and dusted cookie cutters in way too much flour. His menace. Andrew would deal with a hundred husbands - even a hundred just like Jean - to have Neil in his life. 

“Come here,” he murmured, grabbing Neil’s apron strings and reeling him in. Andrew slid his hands around Neil’s back, tucked his face into Neil’s neck, and kissed him just behind his ear. There was flour there too, which was impressive. Andrew leaned back just enough to capture Neil’s mouth with his, kissing him thoroughly because he couldn’t help himself. When Andrew reluctantly let Neil go, he opened his eyes to find Kevin and Jean both leaned against the counter, watching them with twin looks of delight on their faces. Jean’s smile was genuine and soft for once, and Kevin’s eyes were shining. Neil grinned happily at all of them before hip checking Andrew and picking up his rolling pin again

Andrew put up two middle fingers at Jean and Kevin - one for each of them - and turned his back on their laughter to mix more cookie dough, his ears pink and his heart warm. 

Maybe this wasn’t normal. Andrew’s married boyfriend merrily beating cookie dough with a rolling pin, a gun strapped to his leg. Neil’s husband behind them whispering French in _his_ boyfriend’s ear. A mobster uncle that may or may not bring his mob boss boyfriend to Christmas dinner. An exy career planned and decided and laid out in front of them. An overpriced bed two rooms over where Andrew gets to kiss Neil senseless into the mattress whenever he wants, and a shared key to a ridiculous car snug in his pocket. 

Maybe this wasn’t normal, but tucked into this kitchen making cookies with Neil - the promise of a night to come spent with his family and his Monsters, of good food and silly movies, of friendship and milk chocolate ice cream under the stars - well, Andrew thought that _normal_ might just be highly overrated. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
